


Something entirely new

by Wildphoenix_ofthe80s



Series: What if this Storm Ends? [2]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Birth, Blood, Forced Heat, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Male presenting pregnancy, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Pregnancy, Protective Crowley (Good Omens), Self-Mutilation, Wing Grooming, Wing damage, Wings, aziraphale using female genitalia, hard birth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-13
Updated: 2019-09-21
Packaged: 2020-10-17 23:46:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 21,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20629538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wildphoenix_ofthe80s/pseuds/Wildphoenix_ofthe80s
Summary: Gabriel knows Aziraphale and Crowley did *something* to survive their trials. He doesn't know what though, and would like this pesky angel out of his jurisdiction, please...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written fanfiction in maybe 5 years, and I haven't published fanfiction in nearly 15 years, so go easy on me, please? Azira is probably more fluffy than he should be in this, and less stuffy, and Crowley lets things slide that he probably shouldn't have. But hey, fluff is fluff. Please let me know if I need further tags or my rating is wrong! AO3 is very new to me.
> 
> I used the Steven Universe song "Something entirely new" as inspiration throughout this fic. It's cute :)
> 
> "Where did we go?  
What did we do?  
I think we made something  
Entirely new  
And it wasn't quite me  
And it wasn't quite you  
I think it was someone  
Entirely new..."

11.45am.  
"Aziraphale."  
Aziraphale froze where he sat, leafing through a book on the life of Oscar Wilde and tutting at the discrepancies. It had been a good 18 months since he'd seen hide or hair of anybody from Heaven, though he somehow wasn't surprised who had turned up.   
"Gabriel?" He put the book on the table and moved to the door separating the front of the store from the back, half expecting a posse of angels given the fright he and Crowley had put into both sides with their body swapping.   
But there was only Gabriel, and that confused Aziraphale. He refused to let his guard down as the Archangel approached.  
"Aziraphale."  
"Gabriel. You're alone?"  
"Hey, can't we speak angel to angel? Do I have to have an entourage wherever I go?" He approached the smaller Angel purposefully, and Aziraphale backed away. The friendly tone didn't reach Gabriel's purple eyes, and Aziraphale stammered a little over the polite response  
"I-I suppose not... Did you want some tea?"  
"No, I want to finish here so I can leave you to your miserable existence." Gabriel replied icily. Aziraphale felt cold. This was not quite what he'd expected from Crowley's report back after the swap.   
He swallowed, backed up to the table, "Please, Gabriel, go on."  
The taller angel glowered, "I know you and that demon did something. I don't know what but I know you did."  
"Really Gabriel, I don't-"  
"Shut up." Gabriel snapped. Aziraphale attempted to retain his composure. It was hard, having grown used to the idea that he didn't have to suffer heaven's emotional abuse, to meet it again. Especially unexpectedly like this.   
"I could take you back up now. Try it again." He growled. Aziraphale raised an eyebrow, hoping his eyes didn't give away his pounding heart. Gabriel was nearly upon him, and Aziraphale readied himself in case he had to struggle free of his superior's grip.   
Then there was the telltale sound of the bookshop door opening. There was a few seconds pause before somebody called, "Shop?"   
Gabriel smiled slyly, and continued, quietly, "But I have a much better idea. Fraternising isn't cause enough to fall, after all..." He grabbed Aziraphale's collar, pulling him close and lifting him onto tiptoes. With a grin he clicked his fingers, "You'll reap what you sow, Aziraphale." He gave a chuckle as he let go, the force pushing Aziraphale backwards, "And you'll be out of my hair then. Goodbye."  
It took Aziraphale a moment to stand, winded from the force of hitting the table. He trembled as he clung to the chair momentarily, running what had just happened through his mind. A sudden panic gripped him and he unfurled his wings, checking them, but they appeared as white and full as ever.   
At another, slightly more irritable call from the front, he put them away, and went to deal with the customer, resolving to speak to Crowley when he came around at closing time. He did pick up his battered old phone when he had seen off the customer though, and send a message to the errant Serpent, also resolving to ring if he didn't get a reply.  
"Have you had any contact with below?"  
The kettle was boiling when the reply came, "None. What's happened, Angel?"  
It was at that point Aziraphale had to sit down, giddiness coursing through him. Must be delayed shock, he told himself. Extra sugar in the tea, and maybe...  
He clicked his fingers and the front door locked, a closed sign swinging in the window.   
Maybe no more visitors until Crowley. 

****

Crowley jumped out of the Bentley at half past 2 precisely. A click locked the doors of the car, and he jogged to the door of the bookshop. When a push didn't open them, he clicked his fingers again with a panicked curse, opening the lock, and darted inside. The front was dark; it was autumn and the nights were closing in, but usually Aziraphale had some sort of lighting on. Angels were, of course, not known for their sight in darkness.   
"Angel?!" he called, his heart pounding uncomfortably at everything that was not currently usual about the bookshop. He turned on the lights, and strode to the back room, brandishing the baguette he had grabbed in a panic as a weapon when Aziraphale's silence became too much for him and he had to leave the bit of tempting he was doing to hurry over here.   
It was dark back here too, but Crowley's gold eyes were made for this, and he saw the hunched shape over the table in an instant. He turned the light on, making for Aziraphale in the same movement.   
The angel was still breathing, he could see that from here. Why was he breathing so heavily? He put a hand on Aziraphale's shoulder, discarding the baguette on the table as he did, "Angel?!"  
He paused. The angel's shirt was soaked in sweat. He was warm, and slightly musty with it.   
"Angel?!" Crowley shook his friend's shoulder, "What did they do - Who was here?"  
Aziraphale moaned, "Crowley..."  
"It's me Angel, I'm here."   
Aziraphale lifted his head. His forehead and temples glistened with sweat and his eyes were unfocussed, "Crowley. Need."  
"Need what? What do you need?" Crowley was panicked now, and knelt to the angel's level. Aziraphale's eyes briefly focussed on his and his mouth opened then closed wordlessly. He swayed even sitting down, and reached with both hands to take the demon's shoulders.   
"Aziraphale, please." Crowley pleaded, "What's wrong? H-How can I-" he was stunned into silence when the angel wrapped his arms around the demon's neck in an embrace.   
"Okay." It was nice, but this really wasn't the time, Crowley knew, "Angel, please, enough." perhaps it was comforting for him, the demon thought. He hoped so. They had been tentatively pushing their relationship since the notapocalypse, gently but firmly taking advantage of being able to hold hands, or enjoy sitting closer, fingers entangled, a head on the other's shoulder, a chaste kiss or three from his angel after a long awaited stretch of their wings carried them to the coast for some stargazing, a sneaky tongue kiss from Crowley when Aziraphale was intent on him trying something from his plate.  
The angel was sliding from his chair, and for a minute Crowley thought he would faint, until he realised he was pushing himself towards him.   
"Wait, Angel, wait." Crowley made to stand but Aziraphale was already overbalancing him, dragging them both to the ground.   
"Crowley..." He breathed in his ear. Crowley gasped as it was followed by a nip on his earlobe, "Damnit Angel what in he-whatever's name-?!" A few terse moments followed where Crowley tried to edge the angel off him, while Aziraphale seemed intent on pressing them as together as possible with his hips. Unnerved at the behaviour, Crowley finally pushed him off, no small feat when the angel had woven their legs together, "What are you doing?!"  
"Need." Aziraphale managed by way of reply, rolling onto his front to hold the demon at the waist, nuzzling against his hip. Crowley saw the angel's hand move to cross to his zipper, and grabbed at it, "No."   
Aziraphale whined, a noise he normally would never dream of making. Crowley scrabbled to get up, "Who the hell are you and what have you done with my - with Aziraphale?!"  
"Crowley..."   
"No." The demon reiterated, "I don't know who you are, or what you're doing - besides that-" Aziraphale was lying on his back on the floor, a hand pulling at the fabric of his own zipper with desperation.   
"Is it Gabriel?!" Crowley snapped, "Think I've got no standards? That just because I'm pally with an angel, I'll jump his bones at the first temptation? Who do you think you're toying with? Original ssssin, remember?!" He roared, "I'm not falling for it Gabriel!"  
"CROWLEY." Aziraphale snapped. He had rolled over and grabbed him by the ankle. Crowley visibly jumped to see the angel's eyes had focussed sharply and his face had creased in something quite unlike his angel's expressions. He had seen frustration on Aziraphale's face, the cross or pleading stares that accompanied it. This was nothing like that frustration.   
This was the stare of a starving animal about to bite into the flesh of his leg. Manic desperation, and bared teeth, as the angel grunted and lunged to hold him steady. Crowley jumped away from his outstretched arms and darted through into the front of the shop, "I WILL FIND HIM, GABRIEL. YOU CAN'T TEMPT ME, THATS MY JOB."   
As he strode to the doors, he heard the howl of the desperate creature behind him, and flinched. Something was drumming at the back of his brain. The scent? The pain of that howl?  
He slammed the door shut and locked it behind him.


	2. Chapter 2

Crowley fretted for days. He reached out into the world with his everything, searching frantically. He couldn't go up, and he had a feeling he wouldn't find anything from sauntering downstairs.  
On the fifth day, he had given up hunting and was on the internet searching for miracles or strange happenings in the world. Just in case Aziraphale had been lured off on a job while this was going on.  
A few oddities; an orchard of apple trees growing blue apples (That was probably the chemical plant nearby), a pony who could 'speak' (the video on the news site really suggested otherwise) and a pop star who had found the face of Jesus in the muck on his car after a rainstorm (too much cocaine and a new album to be promoted, he decided)  
But he was dimly aware that the strange energy, that corrupted aura, was still fizzling away close by. Waiting for him?  
They had to know he'd be looking for Aziraphale. Had to know he hadn't found him yet.  
Crowley pushed the laptop out of his lap, down the black silk sheets of his bed. He sat, cross legged, and ran his hands through his hair.  
"Where are you, Aziraphale?" He despaired. Then he clasped his hands together. There were some things more important than his demonic pride, even if he was unlikely to be answered. He paused a moment, finding the words.  
"Hey. I know you hate your fallen children, and I know you won't be responding. But I hope you care about him. And I hope you're looking after him. Because he hasn't done anything wrong! I wouldn't be bothering with you if I didn't know that!" He sneered, "Not that you would ever listen to me anyway..."  
Crowley jumped out of bed (and nearly out of his skin) at a sudden knock at the door. With a suspicious glance at the ceiling, he strode down the hallway to the door.  
Waiting for him were two figures he hadn't seen in 18 months, who pushed their way in as soon as he opened the door.  
"Beez! How's downstairs?!" Crowley snapped, fire in his eyes at the other figure, "As for you-"  
"Quiet, Crowley." the Prince of hell buzzed, "Something important hazz come to light."  
"Important enough to bring you both together again?"  
"The Angel." the prince continued.  
"Just what I was going to ask-" Crowley snapped, "What has HE done with him?"  
"Aziraphale is in his bookshop." Gabriel finally spoke, "Which is where you're going."  
"That is NOT Aziraphale."  
"There was a... mistake." Gabriel looked to Beelzebub. There was no support there. He coughed, "Well."  
"No Mizztake." Beelzebub chuckled, "Just divine idiocy."  
"Demon." Gabriel tried to ignore the prince of hell, who was obviously enjoying his discomfort, "Do you know what happens to an angel in heat?"  
"Heat? What are you, animals? Angels don't-"  
"They do if zzzomebody turns the switch on."  
The realisation hit Crowley. Like an animal. The raw, feral feeling he had felt in the bookshop. The same feeling that had been distantly building for the last five days.  
"You did that to him?" Crowley managed, cold snaking up his spine, "You-You actually did that to Aziraphale? Why?"  
"Never mind that." Gabriel snapped, "Do you KNOW what happens to angels in heat?"  
"No, I've never seen one." Crowley replied, feeling his stomach twist in concern.  
"They drive themselves insane." Gabriel growled, "Unless they conceive, they remain in heat permanently. They tear apart their surroundings and themselves, and once that's done they start tearing matter itself apart."  
Crowley felt another wave of creeping chill, followed closely by rage, "Fix him! You did this to him, you fix him!"  
"I would not touch that moron unless God herself told me to." Gabriel snapped, "It would be easier to put him down."  
Crowley was taken aback, "You can't do that."  
"Thatzz why we have come here..." Beelzebub chuckled, "The angel is starting to disrupt reality."  
"And you're his last hope." Gabriel snorted, "Or somebody will notice the damage he's causing."  
"Gabriel I swear..." Crowley snarled, but was quiet when each of them took an elbow and miracled the three of them to the bookshop. The door was open, and Gabriel shoved him inside.  
"Have fun!" 

****

Crowley couldn't believe the mess, even before he tried the lights. The room was in darkness again, and flicking the switch did nothing. Miracling a new light bulb did the trick though. There was glass and books all over the floor. Broken furniture and toppled bookshelves made the shop front look more like a building derelict for decades.  
Distantly Crowley could hear sobbing. He edged towards the noise, miracling his shoes from his apartment and onto his feet. Debris crunched as he moved. Another new bulb was needed in the back rooms.  
Aziraphale was huddled on the kitchen floor, curled up tightly, head on knees and what was left of his wings wrapped around him. Crowley was appalled. Feathers were everywhere. His partner's wings were bloodied and full of gaps, and the one hand he could see had definitely been bitten several times in desperation. At the light, a multitude of eyes rolled in sockets that had no business being where they were on the angel's earthly vessel. Not that you would be clear they were eyes as they were blank, white globes of light. The air shimmered in here, partly with the warmth that exuded from the angel and partly with the sheer force he was having on the fabric of reality, and Crowley let out a breath he didn't know he was holding, "Okay, Angel. Easy. It's me."  
The wings rustled a little, opening. Aziraphale looked terrible. He had obviously been taking things out on himself as much as possible, and there were scratches on his face and rips in his clothes from the raw fury of somebody driven too far. His blue green eyes were shockingly like the other eyes on his body - white globes of light, unseeing, only serving to reach out his damaged aura to taste who had entered.  
The angel moaned as a miniscule black hole briefly opened, orbiting his head as if tracing a halo, and closed, invisible to all but celestial and occult senses.  
Crowley swallowed, and approached. Their auras finally met, Aziraphale's recoiling from Crowley briefly before reaching back out tenderly. The demon knelt beside his angel and waited for his face to rise to greet him. The blank eyes might not see him right now, but he knew the angel knew where he was.  
"I'm going to kill Gabriel when I've sorted you out, Angel." Crowley said, taking one scarred hand in both of his and squeezing it reassuringly, "I'm here."  
Aziraphale keened quietly, and Crowley thought he saw a hint of a smile on the angel's face. So there was something of him left in there.  
"Angel I... I have to..." Crowley shook his head, "To fix this we have to. Urgk. I think you already know. I think you knew what you needed that first day. I'm sorry for making you wait."  
Aziraphale moved slowly to kneel before him, his limbs moving as though he had barely moved them for days. Perhaps he hadn't.  
"This is all wrong." The demon sighed, "Shall we go to your bed? I mean, I wanted to ask your permission before I, but..."  
Aziraphale reached out, placing a hand on Crowley's shoulder. A tiny anomaly swirled around the angel's arm as he did so, fascinating but terrifying. Crowley nuzzled his cheek against the hand, "-I guess. That's permission." he murmured, "Or as much as I should expect."  
He reached out gently to help his friend up, but Aziraphale didn't seem to be able to stand. Was he just so exhausted and weak from five days of tearing himself up? Was it because his need was enough that he couldn't seem to prise his thighs apart from where he was squeezing them together in some desperate attempt to dull the feeling? Crowley hated the thought. He hated the idea that this would be their first time. With a deep breath he miracled a soft blanket onto the floor, before pushing the angel gently to meet it.

****

Crowley had wanted to take things slow and gently - to try and let whatever part of his angel that might be aware of what was happening know that he would have utmost respect for his vessel and his feelings. Aziraphale wasn't allowing him to though. He had his already female presenting parts pressed to Crowley before he had undone his zipper or removed the tatters of his partners boxers. In the end it was the same raw and animalistic experience Crowley had observed of drunken, desperate humans, and horribly unsatisfying as a result. Aziraphale keened throughout, held him close, rocked with him, doing his fair share to bring their efforts to a successful conclusion, but as they lay together in the aftermath it became apparently to Crowley that the angel hadn't 'taken' - Aziraphale continued to snarl, nip Crowley, pinch at him to keep him awake, and grip his waist desperately. Crowley didn't want to think if the latter was down to his earlier walking out on the angel, but with a sigh he decided he needed to try again.  
Over the next few days he tried his best to satisfy the angel. They positioned themselves differently, he tried being gentle or rough, anything he had read in trashy magazines that definitely wouldn't work, but was worth a try regardless. The demon had lost track of how long they had been trying on the day he eventually threw the angel over his heavy oak desk - one of the only things he appeared to not have broken in his despair - to take him from behind as well as stop him shaking his head and pulling his feathers out.  
Aziraphale purred on this occasion, a distinct difference to the increasing number of space and time anomalies that Crowley could sense fluttering around them. He was alarmed when the thought arose in his head that maybe - former angel or not - he just wasn't compatible with his angel. The idea of Gabriel leading a group of angels to kill his partner incensed Crowley, and he doubled down in his effort, pushing against Aziraphale so hard that the desk moved as he did.  
When they reached climax, Aziraphale cried out with the force he had just been thrust against the desk with. Crowley waited a moment before moving away, turning his partner gently, loosing him down to the ground.  
Aziraphale made a small cry as he did, eyelids fluttering in exhaustion, and Crowley went back to the kitchen for the blanket. By the time he got back, the angel was on his side, asleep. Crowley breathed, tucked the angel up in the blanket, and made his way back to the kitchen to see if he could rustle anything up for him. Would he even eat? Could he eat in this state? Would a drink be better or would he just try to drown himself in it? Time would tell.  
A small collection of black holes that had been threatening his jacket popped out of existence. Crowley switched the kettle on and was happy to find a teabag and sugar already in the angel's mug (The winged one Crowley himself had bought him last Christmas as a joke and Aziraphale had surprisingly used when Crowley was around)  
He sighed, and leaned exhaustedly against the worktop to wait for the kettle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I learnt at University that (I believe it's female ferrets?), if not spayed or bred, enter a sort of permanent Oestrus cycle which causes Osteoporosis and premature death.  
Yeah, I applied that nonsense to Angels. Also a bit of inspiration from Boredom's "What is a Principality"? As goes Aziraphale's true form being able to affect the environment around him. Also I love the idea of him being able to conjure black holes lol.


	3. Chapter 3

The sound of the kettle boiling seemed to bring the angel around from his slumber. Crowley heard the sniffle as the tears began again. He sighed, and returned to his side with the sweet tea.   
To his surprise Aziraphale was sitting up by himself. He had squeezed his eyes tightly shut.  
"What did... they do to my shop?" He spoke the words as if hearing them for the first time.   
"You mean to you." Crowley growled, before stopping at the actual words the angel was finally speaking, "Aziraphale?"  
The eyes - the two eyes that were where they were supposed to be - opened slowly. The faintest hint of blue-green flashed at him, returning to physicality. Crowley offered the tea, keeping a hand around Aziraphale's as he asked, "Angel... do you remember anything?"   
"Not really." was the murmur.   
Crowley's breath caught in his throat. Did he really have to explain..? "Do you know... what just happened?"  
"..." Aziraphale put his head back against the desk and breathed, "I... have a suspicion."  
"I'm sorry Angel." Crowley felt the shame creep up inside him. He'd felt it throughout the last few days, but had stamped it down with the need to save his partner, "Ssso. So sorry. I d-didn't. Not like this."  
Aziraphale drained his tea. He wasn't entirely back from the burning need, and couldn't really speak right now. He let Crowley take the mug, and reached instead to hold the demon's hand to his face. His temperature was falling already. Rolling his head to face Crowley, he squinted a little, focussing on his face.   
"You should ressst." Crowley advised.  
It was then that Aziraphale's eyes flickered to his wings, tattered though less bloody since Crowley had been trying to keep his partner comfortable. His eyes widened in panic, "Oh. Oh..."   
He made to fold them away, ashamed, tears welling again in his eyes. Crowley took his hand again, "Wait." He ran his fingers over the angel's knuckles, "Let's go upstairs. Get you bathed. And I'll groom them properly, before you put them away. They need it." He smiled grimly, "I'm going to put you to bed clean and comfortable, then I'll get you some food."   
The angel's eyes brightened a little in hope (and maybe a little at the idea of food, Crowley inwardly chuckled.)  
The demon made to get up, to help Aziraphale up. As the angel staggered against his arms though, he held on briefly in a tender hug. Crowley returned it gently.   
"Crowley." whispered Aziraphale.  
"Mm?"  
"If it had to be anybody, I wanted it to be you."  
Crowley's hug tightened, "You made that clear, that first afternoon. I'm sorry I didn't believe it."  
"You are... decent, Crowley. I have always loved your decency."  
The demon chuckled, sweet relief at having Aziraphale back crashing over him, "Thanks for not making that a four letter word, Angel."   
There was a faint smile on Aziraphale's face. Crowley melted a little inside, "Let me help you upstairs."

****

Crowley stared at the bed as the bath ran. Unused, only there in case, not the correct softness for his angel, not even dressed for it's job. A click of the fingers solved that. A small cloth bag of oats under the hot tap of the bath was a skin-gentle addition to the hot water. Aziraphale didn't notice. He was gazing at the mirror on the bathroom cabinet. His cheeks were pinched from not eating. There were scratches on his face, an ugly bruise fading on his forehead where he must have forcibly banged his head on something. His wings didn't even reach up that high, drooping from his shoulders with disgust at their own state it seemed. A scar crossed his collarbone and more bruises peppered his arms. He appeared to have pulled out a clump or two of his own hair too.   
"I've made rather a mess." He murmured as Crowley appeared from behind him, turning the tap off and putting an arm gently around the angel's shoulder, staring with him.   
"Ssss'what I'm here for." the demon murmured, leading him away from the mirror, "Isss this alright?" He helped the angel into the bath.   
"Yes. That's perfect, Crowley, my dear." Aziraphale didn't let go of the demon's hand even as he wrapped his tattered wings around him and lay back, feeling the sting of so many scars getting their first proper clean in nearly a fortnight, "Ahhhh..."  
Crowley's grip on his hand tightened, "Too hot? I can-"  
"No, No, honestly Crowley. It's perfect. I just ache so..."   
The water stayed hot. Aziraphale enjoyed it for half an hour before Crowley murmured, "Turn over, Angel." He did as asked, leaning on his forearms and arching his back and shoulders. Crowley spread Aziraphale's wings out, one at a time in the small bathroom, working gently at the scabs, out of place feathers, tiny blood blisters where new feathers were attempting to fix the damage.   
Pink stains that shimmered with gold and streaked the white feathers washed gently away with the water, though Crowley was careful to keep running the excess away to stop them becoming waterlogged. Aziraphale hissed when the sheath of a flight feather broke the scab running over it, but sighed with relief as the pressure there finally gave way.   
Eventually Crowley stood and picked up a huge, warm towel from somewhere, "Come on Angel, that's as much as one bath will solve."   
"Oh..." Aziraphale complained gently, feeling comfortable for the first time in days, but made to push himself gently up regardless. Wrapped in a (hooded!) towel, he stepped out of the bath with something between heavy relaxation and pain at the muscles in his body's protest of moving.   
He felt more like himself, and raised an eyebrow at the bed, "Black sheets?"  
"Doesn't show ssstains." Crowley murmured, and the angel noticed he was still hissing a little despite his outward relaxation. For a time he wondered why. He sat on the bed, warm in the towel, and let the demon continue to preen his wings, drying them and straightening the new feathers so they would grow properly.   
"You are so good at that, Crowley." Aziraphale whispered at length.   
"Bessst I can do with what I have to work with." Came the reply. Aziraphale risked a look over his shoulder. His wings weren't standing proud, but they had regained their glow, and were at least level with his shoulders again.   
"Thank you." He whispered. Crowley gave them a last stroke with his palms, to be sure of their integrity, and nodded, "You can put them away now. Let them rest."   
Aziraphale did as he was told, settling back into Crowley's lap. The demon held him gently, an arm around his shoulder and other hand reaching for the soft, now tartan duvet. Aziraphale gratefully snuggled to the demon's hip in a doze. Crowley took his phone from the bedside table, and ordered some food. Well, he had promised.   
It would be a few hours, so he settled back into the pillows with his arms around the angel, feeling the gentle, light aura of his partner as it healed and returned to its normal self. No more fractured reality. The extra eyes had all closed and disappeared. The warmth he felt from the angel now was a body doing its best to repair the damage wrought upon it, and it was a safe, kindly warmth.   
Kindly. There was no despair from the angel now. No hate or self loathing or desperate fury. Just kindness. To himself and to Crowley and to - this situation.   
The situation. Oh Go-Sat-anybody.   
He felt a tremble, a cold feeling, pass through him. It was stemmed a little a few hours down the line when there was a distant knock at the door, and a quick miracle saw the supplies in their appropriate places and the delivery man happily on his way. He carefully disentangled himself from the angel, "Just going to get you something to eat, love."  
Aziraphale mumbled something in return. His aura was bright, and Crowley retreated safe in the knowledge that the Angel was happy.   
The shakes overtook him as he walked downstairs, and he had to sit down while he boiled the milk for the cocoa. Aziraphale was back - that meant -that meant -   
He couldn't even think it.   
He returned with the cocoa and a box of pastries - getting the delivery guy to stop off at a particular favourite shop of the angel's en route had been inspired if Crowley did say so himself. Aziraphale stirred as he returned, and he put the tray on the bedside table and reached to wake him.   
Aziraphale's aura spiked, just a little, but enough to startle Crowley, in his present state of mind. Then the angel curled up a little tighter, knees to chest and arms reaching to wrap around as he had done earlier, though this time it had the effect of appearing as though Aziraphale was just giving himself a warm, loving hug. His eyes flickered open, a gentle smile on his face and faraway look in his thankfully now normal eyes, "Crowley..."  
"'M'here Angel." He sat on the bed, taking one of Aziraphale's hands. The angel raised it to his lips, kissing it gently, "We're. That is. We're going to be."  
"Parentss. Yeah." Crowley finally voiced the word that had frightened him so earlier. Aziraphale must have sensed this, for he closed his eyes, his face creasing in disappointment "I'm. I'm so sorry Crowley."  
The demon fought his tongue for a moment, "Happensss."  
"Is that..." Aziraphale's eyes opened again, focussed on their interlocked hands, "Is that all you can say?"   
Crowley kicked himself for the sadness in his angel's words, "It wasss... necesssssity, Angel. Can't think about it right now. Think later." (Maybe after a bottle of wine. Oh, wait. Aziraphale couldn't very well do that now...)  
Luckily Aziraphale understood the stress in those hisses, and he didn't push further. Instead he moved to prop himself up in the soft pillows, still holding Crowley's hand.   
"Crowley, dear..."  
Golden eyes finally found his face, from where they had been churning with thoughts.   
"I can't remember. Not properly. Could we. Could we maybe... Give me a memory of it?" Aziraphale asked tentatively. Crowley raised an eyebrow, "Not sure we can miracle you a new memory, Angel."  
"No." Aziraphale agreed, "I meant... can we do it again? Properly I mean. Can we make our first time memories properly?"  
Crowley blinked, wide eyed, "Angel, are you sure? You've just had a hell of a shock..."  
"I don't want to think our child was conceived out of 'necessity', Crowley." Aziraphale smiled, the smile that Crowley loved, lighting up his whole face, "I want to remember it as love."  
Crowley softened, a small smile playing about his lips, "If you're certain, Angel..."  
"Certain my dear."   
Crowley reached behind him for the cocoa, "We can start by getting this down you." he offered the mug with both hands, and Aziraphale wrapped his own around them, tilting the mug gently so they could meet eyes as he sipped.   
The angel's smile was so bright as he finished his drink that Crowley couldn't help but return it, sliding the mug onto the table and laying the angel gently back, bending to kiss him, tasting the cocoa over Aziraphale's sweetness and light. The angel was as tender as Crowley had imagined him, kissing, holding him and moving gently as he met his eyes. Crowley asked once more before he began though, "You're sure you want this, Angel?"  
"I do, Crowley. I want you, I've never wanted anybody else to do this to me."  
Crowley's breath caught in his throat, "Thank you Angel."   
Aziraphale's lips met his a moment later and he took that moment to press gently into him.


	4. Chapter 4

It was a few days before Aziraphale felt up to facing the mess he had made downstairs. He descended the stairs carefully, wrapped up in his comforting old cardigan.   
He inhaled when he saw the place. Crowley had tidied up - as much as he felt able anyway - the bookshelves were all upright, and the books were stacked in neat piles around the cases Crowley thought they had come from. He knelt with a smile to a stack of first editions, not a mark on them despite a flicker of a memory of throwing one in rage at the light, frustrated with the way it mocked what he had become in heat.   
Aziraphale couldn't help but beam, delighted at his partner's care and attention.   
"Do you mind? You're blinding." Crowley chuckled from the doorway to the back.  
"You are an excellent partner, Crowley." Aziraphale turned that smile on him.   
"I wouldn't go that far." The demon replied, "Angel, we should talk about this."  
The angel's smile fell a little, "I won't make you stay Crowley. Even if I could."   
Crowley's face twisted up, "As if I could leave! 6000 years Angel, 6000 years we waited to get together, I wouldn't throw it away for a- a-"  
"A baby, Crowley."  
"Baby. Yes." The demon repeated uncertainly.   
"If this is what is to be, Crowley, then this is what shall be." Aziraphale paused, "It is... ineffable."  
Crowley had been struggling with his emotions since the angel had returned to his regular self, but this comment tipped him. With a snarl he grabbed for a nearby chair, throwing it against the wall, "Bollocks to ineffable, Angel!" He snapped, "This was Gabriel's doing!"  
Aziraphale raised his eyes from the chair, used to Crowley's occasional tantrums when he found himself overloaded, "My dear, why would-" he paused, a look of shock clouding his features.  
"Reap what you sow." He stammered.  
"What?" Crowley had gone back into protective mode when he saw the rising panic on Aziraphale's face, "Angel, what is-"  
"And then you'll be out of my hair." Aziraphale remembered with a moan, "He wants me to fall, Crowley."

****

A plate of food appeared in front of Aziraphale. His eyes flicked almost comically between it and the book he was reading.   
"Eat up, Angel." Crowley chuckled, "Find anything?"  
Aziraphale sighed, "No. Nothing that wouldn't exclude one of us."  
The demon took the book, a long finger holding the page as he reached in his pocket for a handkerchief to mark the place, until he saw the look on the angel's face and instead moved to the desk to find a bookmark. Aziraphale watched him until he came back and sprawled in the chair next to him, "Eat your food. You need it."  
"Crowley I-" The angel picked up his fork, "I don't need-"  
"Looking after?" the demon grinned cattily, "No, but I wanted to feed my baby mama."  
Aziraphale nearly choked on the mouthful he had just taken, "Crowley!"  
"I could call you the unmarried mother of my bastard, if it's more agreeable."  
Aziraphale blustered, "You're being very blasé if I may say so."  
Crowley shrugged, "We're in this together, Angel." He reached a hand across the table, and with a small sigh Aziraphale reciprocated, "I just wish you'd take this seriously."  
"I am, Angel." Crowley replied, "While you were reading I phoned Anathema to get her on the case."  
"You-"  
"Should be calling back sssoon."   
"I apologise." Aziraphale replied, focussed on his food.   
"Of course." Crowley tilted his head, "If Gabriel does turn up you could always take care of him."  
"Hm?!" the angel stared at him.  
"After all, you are a Principality, and revenge is a better reason to fall than trickery."  
"CROWLEY!" Aziraphale stared at him, scandalised, withdrawing his hand from the table.  
"I'm just saying." Crowley defended, "Thinking out loud."   
"Well don't." Aziraphale replied, "You know I couldn't-"  
"Not even for us, Angel?" Crowley had taken his glasses from his pocket and was toying with them, as if ready to put them back on. Aziraphale sighed, "I... Don't wish to think about that."  
Crowley glanced up at him. The angel wrung his hands, obviously panicked at the thought. The demon reached out again to steady them, "Don't think about it then." He patted the angel's hands gently, "We'll work something out. Even if it's dumb luck." He rose from the table. Aziraphale's eyes followed him, "Leaving?"  
"Don't think so. Not until I know they're not already coming for us. No, there's a good sunning spot in that shop of yours and I am going to make use of it as it's decided to be sunny today." 

Aziraphale had finished his breakfast and was engrossed in his book again when he distantly heard Queen - must be Crowley's phone, he decided. It had developed a distinct ability to change his ringtones recently. He finished his paragraph before marking the book and putting it back down, moving to find where the demon had settled.   
In a warm corner - as distant from the front door as possible, in a wide beam of sunlight, Crowley was sprawled on the floor, playing with his phone and with a book open on his chest, another closed on the floor. Aziraphale chuckled when he recognised them as a 1930s book of baby names, and a 1970s book on child heath.   
"Have you been reading, dear?"   
Crowley's snake tongue flicked insolently at being discovered. Aziraphale joined him in the corner, beaming.   
"Nothing yet." The demon drawled, "She's going up into her attic after lunch after the rest of her books."  
"Oh." Aziraphale nodded, "And the book?"  
Crowley pulled his glasses down a little to meet the angel's eyes incredulously, "I'm going to take longer than an hour to decide on names I like."   
Aziraphale was beaming again. Crowley found himself returning it. It was a surprise to him when the angel leaned in and kissed him tenderly.   
"Less worried, I take it?" the demon murmured.   
Another kiss, "Just for a few moments." the angel replied.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own the book Crowley is reading. It's grim. I don't even know why I own it.

"Angel?"  
"Yes Crowley?"  
"What's Oligohydramnios?"  
"Greek, I do believe." The angel replied.  
"No," Crowley snarked, "What does it MEAN, angel?"  
Aziraphale blinked, and frowned up at his partner. He had been delighted a couple of weeks ago to find Crowley reading, but now his eyes fell on the cover of the book the demon held, "Crowley, why are you reading that?"  
"Had picturesss." came the sulky reply.  
"Yes but..." Aziraphale sighed, "I knew I should have put that one away. Please, be sensitive Crowley. It's a book of... afflictions. Babies can be born with."  
"I know that." Crowley sulked, "That wasn't what I was asking."  
"Crowley." Aziraphale sighed, "Don't you worry if it'll be okay? The product of an angel and a demon?"  
The demon tilted his head, "Bit late for that, Angel."  
"Yes. Well. My options were limited at the time." Aziraphale dropped his eyes, "And you were an Angel-"  
"A long time ago-"  
"But you were. We're made of the same components, as it were."  
Crowley sat down, "Angel of course I'm worried. Why do you think I'm reading this? Are we going to 'not think about' that too?"  
There was quiet for a moment. Then Aziraphale sighed, covering his eyes with his palm, "It's the lack of sufficient amniotic fluid."  
"You growing our child on a wing and a prayer?" Crowley asked incredulously.  
"No!" Aziraphale despaired, "Oligohydramnios."  
"Oh." Crowley looked back at the book, "Don't go getting that, Angel."  
"Not if I can help it, dear." came the terse response.  
"Are you alright?" The demon asked suddenly, "You've gone very pale."  
"I think I might need to lie down." The angel replied. 

****

Aziraphale was sitting on the bench in St. James'. The ducks were about, but Crowley wasn't. There was a sudden flapping of wings, and a distracting amount of quacking. The angel gazed across the grass and water, to find a woman approaching. A woman? A concept?  
"Huh, weird." Aziraphale jumped at Crowley's voice. The demon was now sprawled on the other side of the bench.  
"What's weird about this?" He asked.  
Crowley sniffed, "You having a moment?"  
"Whatever are you talking about?" The angel frowned.  
"I think, but correct me if I'm wrong Angel - I think you're having a dream. And you've dragged me along for the ride."  
"Why would you think that? I don't-I don't dream."  
"Well one of us is." Crowley stuck his tongue out, waggling it at him, "Can't smell."  
Aziraphale frowned, "Maybe I am dreaming - Maybe you aren't you? I'm dreaming you?"  
"If you are you've got one heaven of an eye for detail." he froze, his face becoming alarmed, "Angel-"  
Aziraphale followed his line of sight. The woman-concept-thing was closer now, and he recognised the aura that fell upon them, "My lord."  
Crowley hissed beside him.  
"My children."  
"Maybe she's dreaming." Aziraphale marvelled.  
"It's a point of view I s'pose." Crowley replied.  
God spoke again, "Aziraphale, my dear, guardian of the Eastern gate-"  
Crowley grabbed at Aziraphale, clambering closer, "He's not done anything wrong-"  
"Shh." the deity smiled, "And Crowley, my dear, dear fallen child."  
Aziraphale squeezed Crowley's hand, "My lord, please, he-"  
The deity tilted their head with a chuckle, "Have you forgotten me so easily, Aziraphale?"  
"No, Lord, but-"  
"Neither of you have done wrong." She stroked Aziraphale's curls gently and held his cheek, "You were made for love, dear child. And all you have done is love."  
"T-Thank you lord." Aziraphale stammered. The deity kissed his forehead gently, "You are protected." She knelt to touch his middle, "And so are they." She turned her gaze to Crowley as she stood, "Dear child."  
"I wasn't dear to you 6000 years ago." He growled.  
"We were all very young, dear." she reached for his cheek. He flinched away, but she smiled again, "Don't fear." She kissed his forehead. Crowley felt a momentary burning which dulled almost immediately and turned to warmth filling his body. He gasped.  
"You are protected." God smiled, stroking his hair, "I like your hair long, Crowley dear."  
"Cheers."  
She stepped back from the couple, "I await their arrival. They'll be the first of something... entirely new."  
She was gone with a sweep that sounded like the rustle of autumn leaves and felt like a summer breeze.  
Aziraphale turned to Crowley, "You actually said 'cheers' to the almighty?"  
"Or you dreamed it, bad boy." Crowley waggled his tongue as he grinned. Aziraphale managed a scandalised little smile before leaning in to kiss his partner.  
They awoke entwined with each other, breathing in the other's warm breath as they did. Crowley purred as Aziraphale's hands reached to the demon's face, thumbs gently stroking his cheekbones, "We're going to be alright, Crowley."  
"I hope so, Angel."  
"She wouldn't taunt us-"  
"Maybe not. I can't wait until Gabriel shows up." Crowley chuckled, "If that was herself above then she just planted protective marks on both of us-all of us." He chuckled, "I hope that ass shows up right now!"  
"Right now?" Aziraphale chuckled, "When we're warm and cozy in bed and could be warmer and cozier?"  
"Angel?" Crowley was puzzled until Aziraphale kissed him, the excitement in his body like electricity on his tongue. He rolled the demon over onto his back gently, and beamed down at him, "Would you mind if I took point?"  
That smile again. Crowley flicked his tongue, "Go on then, but lets do that again first."  
The angel laughed as he bent down to kiss his partner once more, a celebratory meeting of tongues and minds and auras. Crowley hissed in delight at Aziraphale taking top, attention lavished on the serpents frame as if it were all he existed on. As they moved and he got closer to orgasm, he scrunched his eyes up in effort and swore he could see the angel's aura pulsing brighter than before.  
"My mate." Crowley hissed, reaching out with his own aura to touch them together again, "Mine."  
"Dear boy." Aziraphale gasped as they climaxed together, "I think... You may find... You may well be mine."

****

It was a few days later that Aziraphale unfurled his wings for Crowley to check over. The demon gasped. Aziraphale froze, "What is it, Crowley?" He bit back his fears, that maybe he had done more damage than he'd thought over the five days he had been uncontrollable, or when Crowley was sleeping off their days of 'fun' before he had caught. Would he ever fly again?  
His thoughts were stayed by Crowley's hands touching his wings gently, "Angel..."  
Aziraphale moved his wings to curve around him, and was startled by their shine, "What is..?" His white feathers were peppered with streaks of glimmering shine, silver in colour perhaps? He couldn't tell.  
"Crowley-" He exclaimed. He felt the demon shift behind him, and felt the sweep of air as he unfurled his own wings.  
"Well, shit."  
The effect on Crowley's black wings was astounding. The shimmers in his wings were blue and green like magpie wings, and it took Aziraphale's breath away. It was all centred in the sheaths of the flight feathers, casting glimmers across their bedroom wall in the morning sunlight.  
"They're beautiful." He breathed.  
Crowley was perturbed, "I liked them as they were. Mine and yours."  
Aziraphale reached out for him by way of apology, holding him close. He reached out to touch his partner's wings, feeling their softness, strong and well groomed as ever.  
"It's just the colour." He murmured, "You're still beautiful."  
"Y-You too." Crowley murmured, "But..."  
Aziraphale kissed him, "Another surprise for Gabriel, my love."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The magpie note about Crowley's wings are a nod to the wonderful GO AU by Speremint, I am totally in love with their Azirafell's beautiful magpie inspired coat (and I want one for me!)


	6. Chapter 6

Crowley strolled from the Bentley to the bookshop. Once they felt sure that they were safe, he had taken trips out, usually to shop for the baby without telling the angel.  
He grinned when he entered the shop. Aziraphale was talking to somebody animatedly about a book he had seen in another shop some time ago and neglected to pick up at the time. Crowley hugged awkwardly at the parcel under his arm and sidled to the side of the pair to confirm that the angel had indeed finally undone his waistcoat buttons.  
It had been 2 and a half months since the situation happened, and Aziraphale had lucked out on morning sickness it seemed, with only a few early incidents. Their wings had thankfully stopped changing after the feather sheaths, and Crowley was finally getting used to 'being shiny', although not the extensive moult that had accompanied it. Their feathers now shone with matching streaks of blue, green and silver.  
Crowley glanced again to Aziraphale. It was nice to finally see definite evidence of their coupling. Though he dared not mention it to the angel, knowing how bothered he had been by Gabriel's harsh words on his weight.  
If Gabriel ever turned up, Crowley decided, just let him try to speak to his angel like that again.  
The customer left, empty handed as usual, and Aziraphale turned his smile on Crowley, who moved to embrace him. In doing so he placed the parcel delicately down in a space next to the ancient till, "Present for you Angel."  
"For me..? Crowley you shouldn't-" Aziraphale fell silent as he opened the parcel to spy the book he had just been discussing, "Where--?"  
"I remembered you mentioned it at the time." Crowley smirked, "Had them put it aside and forgot about it for a few."  
"Crowley, dear boy." Aziraphale was beaming again. The demon slid his hands under the angel's waistcoat gently, "You could just take this off... It's very warm in here."  
"I like my waistcoat, Crowley."  
"It'll still be in your wardrobe when the baby's here." the demon chuckled, "And it meansss I can do this." He dropped to his knees, wrenching the angel's shirt from where it was tucked in and wrapping his arms around his hips to hug at his now exposed middle.  
"Oh really Crowley..." But Aziraphale didn't move. He had nothing but love for their offspring, and their father despite his sometimes embarrassing behaviour. He tangled the fingers not holding the book in the demon's long red hair and sighed contentedly, "Maybe we should close shop this afternoon and go for a meal?"  
"Excellent idea Angel." Crowley mumbled into his middle.  
"Maybe I will take off the waistcoat then..." Aziraphale sighed.  
"Maybe we should go clothes shopping for you firssst." Crowley purred. 

****

Aziraphale was glad of Crowley's insistence. It had only taken him a couple more weeks to outgrow his shirt, and it made him feel less self conscious to have something else ready to wear.  
He flicked through a book as he rested in bed, waiting for the demon to come back from dealing with his plants. The idea had been raised that they should move in together properly, and they were due to look at houses in the next few days. Today they were just going out shopping for baby things.  
He rolled his hips a little, stretching his back. He had managed to avoid so many of the early effects of carrying a baby, but now he was nearing 4 months and already obviously pregnant, he was finding it a little harder on his body than he'd anticipated. He supposed he should count his very specific blessings for the lack of morning sickness in particular, as he found himself actually needing food (and sleep!) these days.  
The door opened and closed downstairs. The angel put a bookmark in his book and grabbed a jumper from the wardrobe before moving to the stairs.  
"I'll just be a moment." He called, deciding to pop to the toilet before leaving (Another joy he had never seen the need for before now)  
He descended the stairs carefully, glancing about to see where Crowley had got to. Not seeing him in the back, he picked up his scarf and gloves from the table and made his way through to the front, "Crowley?"  
"Wrong." Aziraphale felt cold at the voice. He moved to put his jumper, scarf and gloves back down, "Gabriel?"  
The Archangel stared hard at him, "Oh now that is disgusting."  
Aziraphale clenched his jaw, and folded his arms behind his back to push his middle out a little more, "That's no way to talk about my offspring, Gabriel."  
"The Demon's offspring." Gabriel retorted, "What did I tell you?"  
Beelzebub had been looking around with something that might almost have been interest, perhaps fascinated with the Angel's hoard of books. Now they returned to the Archangel's side, "It doezz not feel like a demon."  
"Nor an angel, but you know these two have meddlesome friends."  
"Still." Beelzebub buzzed, "It izz most likely from Crowley."  
"Gentlemen, I can assure you-" Aziraphale started.  
"Oh, be quiet." Gabriel replied, "Sullying your Angelic form with Demon spawn, Aziraphale? Do you not remember the nephilim?"  
"Gabriel, The nephilim were Angel-Human hybrids-"  
"And this is even worse!" Gabriel exclaimed, "An abomination unto herself!"  
Aziraphale felt his stomach twist in annoyance as he held his tongue. Before he could open his mouth though, there was a laugh, "Too late, Gabby. Her above already told us she ships us."  
"Crowley..." Aziraphale breathed as the serpent who had been apparently lounging in a sunbeam rose up into human form and wrapped an arm around both intruder's shoulders. "I'm sure what Gabriel is trying to say, Aziraphale, is he'd love to be involved bringing up our bastard." He grinned cattishly, "Uncle Gabby!"  
"What?!" Gabriel had been shocked enough to find Crowley's arm around his neck, but now he was struggling for words, expecting the demon he had practically forced into siring an abomination with the angel to be spitting hellfire at him rather than whatever this was.  
Aziraphale took over, a little braver for Crowley's presence, "My dear Gabriel, I'm sorry but you will have to settle for 'Uncle' as an honorific. Only... Godfather was already taken, you see."  
"What are you - I don't want anything to do with-"  
"Beez, Beezy Beezy beez, any pronoun you'd prefer? Auntie Beez has got a sort of ring to it." Crowley talked over the Archangel, "Be good to have both sides batting for us."  
Beezlebub was quiet, almost as if they were considering. Then Gabriel grabbed Crowley, swinging him against one of the bookshelves. Aziraphale watched it wobble, his breath caught in his throat.  
"I will take great pleasure in disintegrating you, demon, but first I will make you watch him fall, and take that aberration with him."  
Crowley chuckled, "I'd like to see you try."  
Gabriel sneered, "Aziraphale, your wings."  
Crowley twisted his neck, meeting his partners eyes briefly. Aziraphale closed his eyes, releasing his wings. They had been given months to recover, and a good moult, and were looking particularly magnificent with their new colouration, Crowley smiled.  
Beelzebub had drawn a knife, but frowned. Gabriel loosened his grip on the demon and he dropped to the floor with a chuckle, "Nice, aren't they?"  
Aziraphale opened his eyes. They shone with light, but not as brightly as the mark on his forehead.  
"Holy shizzz." Beelzebub remarked, "I'm not touching him."  
"What on earth are you doing?" Gabriel cried, astounded.  
Aziraphale spoke, his voice as soft and loving as usual but with a steady and calm depth of strength, "I am the principality Aziraphale, guardian of the Eastern gate, mate to the demon Crowley, mother of something entirely new. And we are protected. All of us." He tilted his head gently as he stepped forward and reached to help Crowley up, "Did she... not tell you this, Archangel Gabriel?"  
Gabriel and Beelzebub exchanged an uncertain glance. Beside Aziraphale, Crowley unfurled his own wings, clasping the angel's hand tightly and vaguely aware that he too seemed to have a blinding headlamp on his forehead..  
"We are protected." Aziraphale repeated, "And you will leave us be, or face the wrath of the lord."  
Gabriel had nothing. As he raised his hand frustratedly to click out of the shop though, Crowley bit back a chuckle, "THANK YOU FOR OUR BABY!"  
The Archangel gone, Beelzebub sheathed their knife, "I will inform down below of developmentzzz." They studied their wings once more before returning down below.  
Crowley began to laugh, until Aziraphale's light went out and he slumped against him, ending up sitting awkwardly on the floor.  
"Angel? Angel... Are you okay?"  
Aziraphale breathed, "I'm... I'm fine Crowley." He patted the demon's hand gently, "I am... so tired lately."  
"Well, you are growing someone new." The demon chuckled, "Should we put off the shopping trip?"  
"Oh, no Crowley. I want to do what I can now. I feel like I'm going to struggle later."  
"Okay." The demon took Aziraphale's hand to help him from the floor. As they put on their outer layers, Aziraphale asked, "Uhm... Crowley..?"  
"Yes Angel?"  
"Auntie Beez? Was that a joke about car engines or the BBC?"  
"Whichever pisses 'em off more, Angel." The demon grinned widely. Aziraphale felt his own smile in return to that wicked grin, "You are too much, dear boy."  
"So proclaims the Principality Aziraphale, guardian of the Eastern gate!" Crowley laughed, "Come on now. I'll get you some lunch first."


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cheers to my beta-er Kowarth for helping me write one of these paragraphs!
> 
> This may be where GO lore starts to go a little bit awry...

Crowley pouted, "Anathema says 20 weeks minimum. I can't wait that long, Angel."  
Aziraphale sighed, "I'm sorry dear, I can't make them kick harder."  
A week short of 5 months gone, Aziraphale had felt movement. Crowley was disappointed it didn't carry over to the surface of his partner's skin.  
"You mean you won't nudge them." Crowley grumbled.  
"Would you?" Aziraphale looked up finally from his book, "Just be patient, Crowley." He grunted a little as he pushed himself back up the pillows, "Plenty of time to feel them yet."  
Crowley grumbled to himself but soon snuggled down to sleep, his hand still rubbing the angel's exposed middle. At length he poked him. Aziraphale tutted, "Do you mind?"  
"Just trying to spark them about a bit."  
"Well don't." Aziraphale replied, "Dear boy, if you felt like I do right now..." He tailed off, frowning at the sudden look on Crowley's face, "Crowley..?"  
"We could...." the demon's eyes were bright.  
"No, Crowley."  
"It wouldn't harm them! They've already had their mother turning semi true form on them."  
"That was necessity, Crowley. I wouldn't risk their life otherwise."  
"And that *was* also my idea." Crowley pestered.  
"Crowley, I just don't..." He tailed off at the look on the demon's face, "Oh really, dear boy, pleading doesn't suit you."  
"Please, Aziraphale. I want to feel them."  
Aziraphale stared at him, "Crowley, if our child is harmed..."  
Crowley offered him his hand. Aziraphale put his book in it, "Your side please, if I'm going to be reading over there."  
The demon did so hurriedly, offering his hand back to Aziraphale. The angel took a deep breath before he took it, locking eyes with his partner as the world seemed to spin around them.  
"Oh." Crowley squeaked a moment later.  
"Indeed." Aziraphale replied.  
"Oh, that is..." Crowley beamed, "That is weird and that is so-"  
"You can have them tonight, dear boy." Aziraphale picked his book back up, "I'm not swapping with you twice in quick succession."  
"No problem there." Crowley grinned, hugging his arms around Aziraphale's body, "You're so warm, Aziraphale."  
"Oh. That's them." Aziraphale replied, "That's love."  
"A body could get addicted to love, Angel."  
The angel chuckled in the demon's body, "I believe that is what is called bonding, dear boy. Enjoy the backache." 

****

Crowley was sitting in the warm corner of the bookshop the next morning, having convinced Aziraphale to let him have just a little longer with the baby. He was tired - Aziraphale wasn't kidding about the backache, but he hadn't mentioned the discomfort in finding a comfortable position, or the shortness of breath, or the feeling he was going to topple forwards all the time - but he had given up his dignity last night for this and he was damned if he was going to give it up just because his back hurt.  
He stroked the bump gently, sleepy in the sunlight, "Wonder if you will sunbathe with me..." he murmured, "That would be nicsssse..."  
"Finally taking it easy I see." Came a familiar voice, "You're looking very well, Aziraphale."  
Crowley grinned, "Anathema, what a ssurprisse."  
"Crowley was quite upset he couldn't feel the baby." The witch was saying, "Is he about?"  
"Kitchen." Crowley replied.  
"Right." She smiled, "Well if you've no objection."  
Crowley was too busy enjoying the sun. He distantly heard his own voice, "Miss Anathema, how good to see you!"  
"Right. You feeling alright?"  
"Tickety-boo."  
Crowley stuck his not-at-all-serpentine tongue out in an improvised flick. At least try to play along Angel, he chuckled.  
Footsteps moved closer, "Well I had this thought, it..." Crowley dozed off again.  
When he woke Aziraphale was saying, "It sounds like a plan, doesn't it, Angel?"  
"Yeah. Great." Crowley replied without thinking. Anathema put a book she was holding down and reached into her bag. Crowley dozed. Right up until he felt like the baby had whacked him in the side with a hand-crank, "Ow!"  
"Wow." Aziraphale said. Dimly Crowley became aware the Angel had his hands on the bump, and that must be as weird a feeling for the angel as it was for himself, arriving inside his partners vessel last night. He hissed, "That hurtss!"  
"It does?" Anathema raised an eyebrow, "I must have used too much sage. I do apologise. It should wear off in about 20 minutes. May I make myself a coffee?"  
"Of course." Aziraphale replied, "Tartan tin with a C on it."  
Crowley locked eyes with Aziraphale as Anathema moved to the kitchen, "You could have told her!"  
Aziraphale chuckled, "And miss this, dear boy?"  
"Ngk." Crowley growled, "Oh my G-S- whatever." He rose shakily from the chair.  
"Are you alright?" Aziraphale worried. Crowley grunted, "I need to piss now."  
"Language, really dear boy."  
"Alright, alright." Crowley growled, "But I want to swap back when I'm back!"  
"Give it twenty minutes." Chuckled Aziraphale, and curled up in the vacated chair to warm the serpent body for it's host. 

****

It was two full nights later that Crowley returned to the bookshop with shopping bags hanging from both arms. The place was suspiciously quiet, and the demon took great care to sneak through the bookshelves in search of the Angel he had expected to greet him. He made his way through to the back rooms, where Aziraphale was standing completely still next to the little table with the kettle on. He had one arm raised, a first edition copy of 'Under milk wood' resting in his hand as if reading in the roman senate, and the other hand resting on his middle.  
Crowley almost felt he was intruding on a private recital.  
He looked at the angel's face, his open mouth and his eyes wide in stunned silence. Suddenly there was the slightest wiggle of his shoulders.  
"What is it?" Crowley demanded in a concerned hiss, "Has Gabriel been back?"  
Aziraphale turned as if only just hearing him, beaming his broadest and most loving grin in reply before beckoning the demon closer. Crowley dropped the bags and slunk warily forward, very much on guard. The angel nodded and flicked his eyes downward several times. Crowley looked at his feet. "My shoes?" he guessed. Aziraphale sighed, reached out, and clasped Crowley's wrist, moving it to press very lightly at his belly.  
Now it was time for Crowley's eyes to widen, almost comically so given his glasses  
"Oh." he managed, at the lightest fluttering against his palm.  
"OH!" he repeated as his smile matched the angels. Aziraphale stifled a giggle, sure that it would disturb the child or the placement of Crowley's hand. He raised his eyebrows, "No need for a witch's brew this time, dear boy."  
Crowley knelt in front of the Angel, tentatively lifting his shirt and placing an ear to his bare midriff. Aziraphale opened his mouth, but paused as Crowley lent away suddenly to tear his glasses from his face. Aziraphale watched the demon close his eyes and nuzzle to the source of the kicking. He closed his mouth without a word and moved his arm, sore from keeping the book aloft for so long. His free hand drifted to ruffle the demons hair fondly and he hummed gently at the flood of joy he was experiencing. He was surprised to hear another hum from the demon at his waist. He blinked, though didn't speak for fear of stopping the comfortable nuzzling the demon was doing, 'listening' as he had done a few times previously for the vibrations caused by the tiny movements. Then Aziraphale recognised the tune, "Crowley... is that bebop?"  
"Only in your language, Angel."  
"It's Queen, isn't it."  
"They seem to like it." Crowley chuckled.  
"Child of the music loving demon." Aziraphale giggled. Crowley took that moment to flick his serpentine tongue against the Angel's exposed bellybutton, and he couldn't help a shrieked laugh, "Crowley, stop that!" The demon wrapped his arms around the angel's waist and joined him in the laugher. 

****

A few weeks later saw the bookstore close, and both it and the Mayfair flat emptied. Crowley glanced over to Aziraphale as they drove the last bags down to the cottage one cold evening.  
The Angel was asleep in his seat, an arm draped over his middle. Crowley wondered not for the first time if an angel pregnancy would take less time than a human one - or if the Angel was just running a little big because of his love for food.  
He returned his view to the road. In the last few weeks the baby's grace had finally become known. It was confusing, conflicted, and as their respective line managers and God herself had affirmed, neither angelic nor demonic.  
He pulled over briefly to take a drink. Aziraphale was also noticeably warmer, the child's grace calling forth fresh waves of love that the angel's nature couldn't help but have him melt over. He was excited, thankful and astonishingly happy for somebody who seemed to be spending most of his life right now aching.  
The warmth in the car made the serpent thirsty though, and he gulped his coffee with a sigh.  
Aziraphale stirred, woken by the car's lack of movement, "Umph."  
"Steady Angel. Not there yet."  
"Tell that to your child." The angel replied, lifting his T-shirt to reveal a little lump in his side, "They seem happy enough."  
Crowley patted the lump gently, "Hey, not so hard, I think your mum's learned his lesson for letting the witch mess with you now."  
A gentle press and whatever appendage had been jabbed in Aziraphale's side moved on.  
"How long do you think we have before they arrive?" Crowley asked finally.  
"I don't know. I was figuring similar to a human but..." Aziraphale moved his hand from his middle to his cheeks, flipping down the mirror in the shade, "I don't think this is my sins catching up with me."  
Crowley chuckled, "I don't know about that Angel." He leaned over to plant a kiss on his partner's middle, "I'd say we did a lot of sinning that week."  
Aziraphale tilted his head, "There are other options."  
"Like?"  
The angel bit his lip, "Polyhydramnios."  
Crowley narrowed his eyes.  
"The opposite of what you asked me about when you read that awful book?" Aziraphale prompted.  
"That happens suddenly though, right?" Crowley scraped through the memories of what he'd read, "You were showing early. You've run big the whole time."  
"Thank you, dear boy, that makes me feel a lot better." Aziraphale sighed.  
"Perhaps angels just give birth sooner." Crowley shrugged.  
"I hope so." Aziraphale replied, "I wouldn't want to be changing gender in labour just to go to a human hospital because it was too big for me to..." He coughed uncertainly.  
"It'll be fine, Angel." Crowley murmured reassuringly, "Her upstairs ships us. She's not going to try and hurt you when she's so excited about this new creature she's altered our bodies for you to produce. And she loves you."  
"I hope so." The angel repeated.  
"We'll call Anathema in the morning. Get this thought out by somebody a bit smarter than us."  
"She's going to end up being our midwife at this rate." Aziraphale sighed.  
"I'm sure she'd be fascinated to watch, Angel." Crowley patted his partner's middle, keeping his hand there as he pulled back out onto the dark road.  
"I'm sure they must lie sideways sometimes." Aziraphale said after a couple of minutes, "That's the only explanation for how it can kick me all over at once."  
Crowley visibly jumped at a realisation, and slammed the brakes on. Aziraphale's jaw dropped at the same moment, and for once not because of Crowley's driving.  
"Wings?" the demon panicked.  
"Wings..." The angel moaned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They sort of soul jumped into each other's bodies. I don't think that's quite the same as what they did in the show.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to Kowarth for the help with one of the paragraphs. Bible stuff was never my strong point.

"That's an idea actually."  
Anathema had done what she could, especially when a panicked Demon had rung her at 11pm asking to swing by immediately. The further prophecies only stated that something new would come, and would change many things above and below, while walking the middle ground.  
"Takes after its parents then." Crowley had quipped.  
Now the witch had Aziraphale knelt on the floor, bent slightly back over the sofa while she pressed gently at parts of his middle, "I mean... it's very hard to tell - you weren't skinny before, and that layer plays havoc with the ability to feel things. May have been why Crowley couldn't feel anything either, though 19 weeks would have been early for a partner to feel the kicks." She gently pressed below where a kick had just met her palm, "I think that's a head though, for one thing because it's not telling me to quit squashing it's home. It could be positioned head down with wings. Though that was strong on the other side for fluttering."  
"You can certainly say that again." Aziraphale replied.  
"But if you do go the same time as a human, you're not even three-quarters done yet. It's still got room to throw good punches. It might calm down a bit when it gets more constricted."  
"The problem is." Crowley managed, knowing Aziraphale was struggling to word it, "How on earth do you naturally birth something not only as oddly shaped as a child, but with extra appendages on it's back?"  
"I would just go the whole hog, change into a woman, go to hospital and get busy with the clicky fingers." Anathema replied, "It's not what you want to hear but if it's life or death, your NHS is free for a reason."  
Aziraphale nodded, "I will... consider it."  
"Other than that, as far as I can tell from here it seems healthy." Anathema said, "Frequent movement, obviously growing well, and it's aura is starting to become apparent in your own."  
"I have noticed feelings." Aziraphale beamed.  
"Sickening amounts of love." Crowley teased, "And claustrophobia maybe."  
"Crowley, they haven't been outside, how are they supposed to know they're inside?"  
Crowley opened his mouth but failed to manage a reply. It wasn't as if he was grown inside another life form, and he had difficulty imagining what the baby must be experiencing. Aziraphale had already gone on with the conversation though, "Thank you for seeing us. I understand it's late and you'll be wanting to get to bed."  
"No worry, Newt will be asleep by now." Anathema shrugged, "Did you want to unfold the couch for tonight?"  
"No." Crowley said quickly, "We really just want to spend our first night in the cottage together now, don't we Angel?"  
"Oh. Yes." Aziraphale replied, lost in a little fleeting feeling, "It will be good to get to bed."  
"Oh?" Anathema raised an eyebrow.  
"Maybe you should get up there to Newton." Crowley chuckled, "And think about it, if you're shipping it."

****

The two entered the dark cottage with excitement. Aziraphale made for the light switch while Crowley dropped the bag with the last of their belongings in by the stairs. He shut the front door and bolted it, "Angel..."  
Aziraphale was marvelling all over again at how nice the wooden doors were, but he turned, "Dear?"  
"C'mere. Something I wanted you to see."  
Aziraphale didn't complain as Crowley lead him upstairs, but he felt he really ought to have. Stairs were becoming an issue too, with his balance.  
The demon took him down the corridor and grinned, "In here."  
They stepped into the bedroom and Crowley flicked the switch. Aziraphale gasped, "Oh... Crowley... it's so lovely."  
The nursery was painted in a light yellow colour, bright and friendly like sunlight but still cool. The crib was blue-grey, light and sturdy. There were little darker highlights everywhere, and it set the lightness off perfectly. They had already had a small shopping spree of books to read the baby, and they filled a little bookcase and overspilled into brightly coloured boxes alongside (Crowley hadn't wanted to rein in his angel when he was debating whether Roald Dahl or C.S. Lewis could still be considered role models, or if Eric Hill had designed Spot books just to be destroyed by toddlers.)  
Crowley's additions to the pile had been Elmer the elephant and the Redwall novels. ("I just want to read about mice doing mouse knight things with my kid, okay?" "You won't hiss and say they should be eaten when they do something silly, will you Dear?")  
Then there was a pile in the corner of baby toys and supplies that would eventually be loaded into the rest of the furniture.  
"You've done so well, Crowley." Aziraphale beamed, "I would toast you if I could drink."  
"We'll drink when they're tucked in their bed the first night." Crowley replied, "Though what we would toast..."  
"You and I?"  
"Staying alive?"  
Aziraphale considered, "Our brave new world..."  
Crowley wrapped an arm around his shoulder, "We've got time to decide. Let's go to bed, we can explore properly in the morning."  
As Aziraphale tore himself from the baby's room, Crowley moved quickly to add another couple of books to the nearest box. The wolves in the walls, and Johnny and the dead. Both he had claimed some small responsibility for, and he chuckled as he turned out the light and followed the angel to the bedroom. 

****

The cottage was cosy, but the floor space decent enough, with room downstairs for Aziraphale to have a library (Though his bookcases had already spilled into other rooms) and the garden space enough to keep Crowley happy, with wide beds of flowers and bushes and a large lawn at the back for their child when they were older.  
The kitchen was roomy enough to entertain (not that they had much to do with many people) and it was a short walk to either Tadfield or to the closest village, where there were a couple of charming shops and a duck pond in a small field which seemed to be owned by nobody yet immune to purchase.  
They settled in immediately, preparing as best they could for an event who's timing they couldn't predict. Crowley had taken to waking Aziraphale in the morning with breakfast, and spending the time while he ate it snuggling up to his middle and whispering mischief to it.  
Occasionally he swore blind the baby heard, understood, and kicked it's mums ribs in a silent guffaw.  
On this particular morning though, something was troubling Crowley, and he felt as though it was high time he broached the subject.  
"Have you ever seen a birth before, Angel?"  
Aziraphale frowned over his cup of tea, "I've met a lot of pregnant people, they seem so happy-"  
"I know you absolutely adore the feelings pregnant humans feel, the love, the hope, the dreams, all those little rituals and ceremonies they've made up - baby showers are ours by the way, nothing like a bit of needless capitalism to surround one of the most natural things humans do -" He paused, "But the actual birth part?"  
"Oh no, dear boy." Aziraphale replied, "Nowhere near one. That's private. Not many humans have open invitations to watch the birth of their young."  
"At least until the invention of the camcorder." Crowley muttered. He rubbed his eyes, "You've never seen an actual, biological human birth? Weren't you in Jerusalem at the very least?"  
"We don't talk about Jerusalem, Crowley."  
"Fine." The demon ran a hand down his face, "Do you remember - that Donkey in Babel!? Gave birth during the feast?"  
Aziraphale shuddered, his face scrunching in something almost like disgust, "Why on earth would you be thinking about that mess? We are having a joyous occasion that..." He tailed off at Crowley's expectant expression. He was waiting for the penny to drop, and drop it had.  
"Mess?"  
"I'm afraid so, Angel."  
Aziraphale let his eyes fall to his middle, and he huffed a little, "On the plus side, I suppose it's not going to happen in my bookshop."  
Crowley snorted, but after a moment he reached out to touch Aziraphale's hand, "Angel, there's something else that's worrying me."  
The angel glanced back at him, pouting a little at how uncomfortable he'd been made to feel - and over breakfast, at that!  
"Are you sure..." Crowley knew he was wandering into uncharted territory here, "You want to- to sstay in the male body?"  
Aziraphale's expression was dismayed, and his voice was almost pleading when he replied, "It's comfortable after all this time, Crowley. I've sacrificed so many comforts already."  
"You know why women have different hips to men, right?" Crowley tried.  
"I was present when Eve decided to make use of them." Aziraphale sulked.  
"Oh, a little angelic voyeurism in the garden, eh?" Crowley chuckled. Aziraphale stared at him, his expression hurt. The demon shook his head, "Angel I just don't want you getting into any trouble when it comes to this."  
"Yes, well." Aziraphale replied, "I will do some reading." He stood with effort from the bed, and made his way to the bathroom to get dressed, the matter obviously closed. Crowley sighed and picked up the tray of breakfast things, "How can you be so smart but so foolish, Angel?"

****

As time went on, the baby's grace got more and more difficult to understand, often with things approaching wordless thoughts that were entirely at odds with itself, flip-flopping about and random as channel hopping during evening primetime. It gave Aziraphale a headache trying to understand the jumble of dislodged thoughts that routinely hammered at his skull. He tried though, wondering if it would give him some clue as to the child's nature and form. One day in his 7th month of pregnancy he burst into the nursery while Crowley was stencilling tiny snakes and doves on the skirting.  
The demon jumped, visibly startled by Aziraphale's swiftness, "Angel?!"  
Aziraphale just stormed across the room as best he could, turned to Crowley and asked, "Why?!"  
The demon stared at him, eyes wide, "Why... what?" (Oh heaven, what had he done now? Was it that job he'd popped back to London for?)  
Aziraphale blinked, the crackle in his aura diminishing, "What?"  
"You've been listening too hard again." Crowley realised.  
"I can't help it, Dear." Aziraphale replied, "They ask such questions."  
Crowley chuckled, "No need for paternity testing then."  
Aziraphale didn't seem to be in a hurry to leave, so Crowley nodded him towards the rocking chair, "Might as well test it out." The angel picked up a book - Sweet dreams Cthulhu? He'd never even heard of it - and sat down to leaf through it. At least it was better than 'Go the f**k to sleep' he supposed, which he'd had to prevent Crowley putting in here and instead had resigned to the top of the bookcase in their bedroom.  
At length the angel placed a palm flat on his swollen middle, pressing against a wedged foot until it moved, "I don't think this is wings anymore, Crowley."  
"Hm?" The demon looked up at him.  
"I mean think about it." The angel continued, "There's no ruffling, no jabbing indicating wing tips - it's hands or feet or elbows or knees, kick and push movements. There's no long stretching at all."  
"What are you thinking then, Angel?" Crowley asked, a little concerned, wondering what sort of biblical nightmare he could look forward to welcoming into the world.  
"I'm thinking you might be right about having less time than we thought." Aziraphale replied, "Or that's what I'm hoping."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can we hear some love for Johnny and the dead, please? <3 
> 
> (And remember, when the Wolves come out of the walls, IT'S ALL OVER.)


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I continue to thank Kowarth for the beta-ing and help.
> 
> Let the fun commence!

It was two weeks later. Aziraphale had made it to 8 months gone. He was exhausted, uncomfortable, and it was taking all his grace to keep his smile bright enough that Crowley didn't ask if he was alright. He didn't really want to answer the question, because if he started he had a list of complaints a mile long.  
It didn't help that it was June, and the first of what might be many heatwaves this summer was upon them. Aziraphale couldn't face sleeping lying down anymore; He felt like he couldn't breathe (another thing he realised he had to do to build the new life he was growing) and his heart raced with the stress if he tried. He had taken to sleeping in the rocking chair, sometimes with Crowley in serpent form curled around his shoulder to make sure he didn't slide off.  
"Sssshould try hanging from the rafterssss." The serpent had suggested the evening before.  
"The rafters, dear boy?"  
"Yesssss, like flying things usually do."  
"Wait Crowley, thats-"  
"BATSSS!" Crowley nearly fell out of snake form, he shouted so loudly.  
"Not eagles." Aziraphale chided him.  
"Not fluffy dovessss either." The serpent chuckled.  
But Crowley was passed out in bed, sprawled across the extra space, the morning that Aziraphale woke in the early hours with a rising tide of emotions welling up within him. He was sweating under the fan Crowley had set up for him, not with the temperature but with fear it seemed, fear and dread and - No, it wasn't his fear and dread he was sensing, it was-  
A kick to his side lead him to wrap his arms around himself tightly, "What on earth do you have to be scared of, my dear?" He asked gently.  
Fear and panic were his only responses. He pulled his cardigan from where he had hung it on the back of the chair, wrapping it close around his middle as if it would help, "It's alright. Calm yourself my dear, I'm here." At that point he was surprised by a sharp, if still mild cramp that ran down his middle from top to bottom. He gasped more from realisation than pain, "Oh, is that all?" He soothed, his mind racing for ways to occupy the young mind that reached out, trembling, for reassurance. He found an appropriate train of thought a moment later, "That's nothing for you to worry about, let me and your father worry about this. Honestly, there's a whole universe out there we just can't wait to show you, you'll see. It's going to be wonderful. You just have to get through this with me. You'll soon forget, I hear, and you'll find more joy in the world than you'll ever find stuck in there." He lifted himself with difficulty from the chair, "Would it help if I read to you for a while? You need to sleep, as I do, if we're going to get through this." He made his way downstairs before speaking again as he made for the library, "Your favourite, I presume? I'm not sure I can do all the voices like your father can, but I'll try some Shakespeare for you if you like."

****

Crowley was woken by a distinct unease nearby. He focussed in on it for a few moments before he heard Aziraphale talking downstairs. He crept to the top of the stairs like a child trying to see what adults did with their dull lives once the children were in bed. He listened to Aziraphale talk, and followed him downstairs shortly. So consumed was the angel in soothing the fright that buzzed around him, flecking into his aura in waves of blue, he didn't notice Crowley until he huddled between his legs where he sat with a book, reading calmly.  
"Up early Angel." Crowley murmured, pressing his ear to his partner's middle. He was kicked for his trouble but remained snuggled close, smiling faintly.  
"Yes, well..." Aziraphale started, but then tensed, concentrating on his breath and counting silently. At his hips, Crowley felt the wave pass downwards and realisation dawned on him, " I need to ring Ana-"  
"Not yet." Aziraphale gasped as the contraction passed, "Plenty of time to go yet."  
"Angel, you're in pain-" It was almost a whine, and Crowley hated himself for how pleading it sounded as much as Aziraphale hated hearing Crowley's worry.  
"It's 3am Crowley." He tried to diffuse his partner's worries with a small smile, "And there's a while to go, yet."  
Crowley climbed into the small reading seat too, not a sensible option but obviously where he felt he needed to be. He paused a moment, wrapped around Aziraphale's warm body, before transforming. Serpentine now, he slithered so his cool head was back against his partners middle, "Okay," He managed, "But I'm not leaving you now."  
"If you're comfortable, you may as well sleep here too." Aziraphale replied, "We were settling down for the night."

****

The next day dawned bright and warm again. Crowley slept until lunchtime, although he couldn't vouch for Aziraphale having slept, and when he woke they made their way to the kitchen, the demon watching the angel and trying to work out the timings for himself.  
Aziraphale didn't want to eat, which in itself was troubling, though not surprising. Crowley eventually 'tempted' him to eat an apple, but towards the end the angel was hit with another contraction and discarded it as he sat back and breathed.  
The afternoon wore on. They stayed put in the kitchen, Aziraphale muttering lines of a book to himself and the baby, and drumming his fingers on the table. Crowley gazed out of the French doors into the garden, timing contractions from the pauses in drumming. They were getting closer and longer, he knew that much, but the Angel was still just reading. Slowly, and carefully, and sometimes stopping to explain something.  
Eventually Crowley snapped, "Angel, thatssss the fifth sugar you've put in that tea! You don't even drink tea with sugar in!" He strode to the table, placing both his hands on it to make his point, "Its a distraction technique, and trust me, I REALLY know what I'm talking about when it comes to those!"  
"Everything is... fine." Aziraphale countered through gritted teeth. His fingers were still, just above the table, and Crowley felt himself shake with a mixture of panic and rage at his partner's behaviour, "No! No its not! And-And I'll tell you why its not - You. Are. Having a baby!" He snapped, "You, an angel, a splinter of divine eminence on the sssurface of the Earth, are having a baby, our baby, looking as if you were sitting through that God-Satan-whatever-awful opera about the sailor!"  
"Flying Dutchman is a good opera Crowley, we just caught a bad night."  
"They burned down the theatre! It wasn't even my idea!" Crowley paused like a cartoon character who had just run off a cliff, "Wait, wait. You're bloody doing it to me now! You're distracting me talking about Opera! Damn it Aziraphale!"  
"Now Dear, you brought it up-"'  
"NO!" Crowley yelled, wheeling to begin pacing again, "No, I have had it! We don't know what we're doing Angel, you are clearly in a lot of pain and of all God's creatures, angels were not meant to feel pain..." Crowley stopped and removed his sunglasses, the end of his sentence left unspoken, his eyes portraying his knowledge of this fact. He looked Aziraphale in the eye, "I'm calling Anathema, Angel."

****

"He's what?"  
Newt peered around the doorframe at Anathema's outburst.  
"How long has he been like that for?"  
The young man moved back to the kitchen, wrapping the sandwiches he had been making for tea in foil.  
"So he's more concerned with calming the baby down than actually doing anything to help himself?"  
He pushed the sandwiches into a bag and filled a couple of bottles with water.  
"Okay. Keep calm. Don't shout at him again, okay? We're on our way. Just keep timing."

****

"I know." Crowley moaned.  
"You know he's all patience. And you're not." Anathema said, "But I did say not to shout at him."  
"I didn't!" Crowley snarled, "I just... Told him to go the fuck to bed if he was just going to wait."  
"Newt, would you slap the Demon for me please?" Anathema asked sweetly.  
"Oh Ana, I don't know if that's a good idea-I mean, he is the father and all and he's nervous-"  
Anathema sighed, and slapped Crowley herself, "Isn't Aziraphale suffering enough?"  
The demon held his face, "Too much, yeah."  
"Then take us upstairs and let me speak to him."  
"Sorry." Crowley apologised, a little sense knocked back into him, "We have a pretty low hit rate on the whole baby thing."  
"Adam turned out very well." Newt reminded him.  
"Yes, because we left him alone!" Crowley cried.  
"We are not leaving our child alone anywhere!" Came Aziraphale's strained voice from the doorway.  
"Aziraphale, you should be in bed." Anathema chided him. He looked sheepish though, wrapped in a blanket and looking pale, and she frowned, "What's wrong?"  
The angel twiddled his thumbs anxiously, "I may have made a mess. I would miracle it away but it is a lot... and I'm so tired." He blushed.  
Anathema sighed, "Crowley, get up there, do your thing."  
"Why me?" The demon asked.  
"Because it's your baby too, and your partner's water just broke I assume?" she glanced to the angel, who nodded forlornly, "Get up there Crowley. You too, Aziraphale. Crowley, when you've sorted the bed get him into the shower, it'll help him relax. I have some things to prepare here. If you'd let us know this morning, we could have had some sort of pain relief prepared."  
"Told you." Crowley hissed as he wrapped an arm around Aziraphale's shoulders. They both looked tired, worried and sick, despite Aziraphale coping better, and Anathema sighed.  
"I'll get some food for them together." Newt offered.  
"And tea, most likely." Anathema nodded, "The angel needs his strength."

****

Aziraphale was still as calm as he could be as Crowley guided him gently upstairs, but the demon insisted on getting him into the en-suite shower while he miracled the bed clean.  
He joined him a moment later under the hot stream, "You weren't kidding about the mess, Angel. That's like the donkey all over again." he teased.  
Aziraphale blushed, "I didn't get a warning." And changed the subject, murmuring, "Glad we have a big shower, dear."  
Crowley just wrapped himself around Aziraphale, arms around his middle to massage his muscles gently and hold onto him when he tensed again. A whimper escaped the angel this time.  
"Are you going to admit it hurts yet?" Crowley murmured in his ear.  
"When I start to scream, it hurts.' Aziraphale breathed, "Until then I can take it."  
"You're not competing for a prize in badassery, Angel."  
"No." His partner replied, "But I am keeping them calm as long as I am. And I have you to help."  
"Aziraphale..." Crowley held him lovingly, kissing his neck, "Least you're breathing better now."  
"Less... pressure." The angel murmured, his head against the demon's shoulder. A few minutes later he tensed again, "Ohhhh... Crowley..."  
"I've got you, Angel."  
Aziraphale breathed. He felt unable to keep counting, but Crowley was comfortingly murmuring the numbers in his ear. When the wave passed, he turned slowly to hold the demon as tightly as he could with his middle in the way. Crowley bent to kiss his forehead and he reached up to pull him down a little further to his mouth.  
"I'm sorry Crowley." He murmured.  
"It's fine." Crowley smiled, using the angel's own words, "You are doing your best. I wish you would let me do my best for you too though."  
"I know." Aziraphale's voice faltered.  
"We both love the baby, Angel." Crowley nuzzled at the angel's neck, "But they and I love you too. You need to have care for yourself."  
"I know." The angel managed.  
"Would it help if we swapped?" Crowley blurted out suddenly. Aziraphale met his eyes, alarmed, "Crowley, no."  
"It would be..." Crowley's voice shook, "More effective. For the being made of love to be external."  
"No." Aziraphale replied firmly, "I can't see you hurting, Crowley."  
"So I have to see you hurting..?" The demon replied.  
"Dear boy..." Aziraphale whispered as he nuzzled at his cheek, "I am unlikely to flail and scream obscenity, voice my pain loudly and end up upsetting the baby with my own emotional state. Tell me I'm wrong?"  
Crowley pulled away, looking the angel in the eye, "I don't want to see you in pain, Aziraphale."  
"I know." The angel replied, "But some things are worth it my dear, I promise." He guided Crowley's hands back to his middle, "It won't be long, Crowley. And it's for the best for them. Honestly. Please let me do this."  
Crowley moved his hands back to Aziraphale's shoulders, wrapping his arms around his partner, "If it gets too much, Aziraphale..."  
"It won't." He replied, but another contraction gripped him. He put his head back a little, breathing slowly, "S-see?"  
Crowley held him gently, "Angel..." He despaired. Aziraphale relaxed a few moments later, "Crowley. Is there any chance of some tea when we get out?"  
"Honestly?" The demon gasped.  
"Dear boy, its going to be a long night." the angel smiled softly, "Help me out and we'll get into bed?"


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to my lovely Beta'er, Kowarth :)

Aziraphale had continued to read, unable to sleep in his state. Crowley had wrapped his arms and legs around him, trying to sleep but preoccupied, his hand on his partner's middle. The baby continued to kick and he could feel it's concern, but it was at least background noise as opposed to the suffocating wave it had been when the angel had first woken in the early hours of the previous day. 24 hours so far, Crowley pondered as Aziraphale tensed once more. The demon opened his eyes and scanned them over where Newt and Anathema were dozing on a conveniently miracled daybed. It had been suggested they all sleep so they would be fresh when Aziraphale needed assistance. A large flask of coffee stood by and a covered plate of sandwiches Newt had rustled up, but Aziraphale continued to refuse food, saying he felt nauseous from the contractions.   
Crowley opened his eyes at 4am when Aziraphale suddenly squeezed his hand tightly, his expression wide eyed, "Crowley..."   
Crowley squeezed back, "Shall I?" He asked when the angel finished breathing hard. He nodded quickly, "P-please do, Crowley."  
"Anathema." The demon called. The woman was up in a moment, Newt rolling over as she did, blinking sleepily.   
"Okay Aziraphale, let me check you. Excuse the cold fingers." the witch said a moment later as she returned from washing her hands, "Newt, pour some coffee." The lad scrabbled to comply.   
"And Crowley." Anathema looked the demon in the eye, "Help Aziraphale over to the edge of the bed. Sit behind him, prop him up. He'll probably need some help when he comes to push."  
Crowley nodded numbly, helping the angel shuffle forwards until Anathema signalled to stop, "Okay, this will feel uncomfortable."  
Aziraphale closed his eyes while the woman checked, "You're doing well. Bit longer before you can start though." She looked up from his legs, "Crowley, hold him."   
"What-" Crowley managed, before grabbing the angel's hands, crossing them over his chest as he finally broke his calm with an ear splitting cry.   
"Angel." He murmured, "Angel, I told you that you should, or even that we should..." He briefly considered forcing a switch, but his aura butted up against Aziraphale's and found it blocking him.   
"Please, Angel." he murmured.   
"Can't." Aziraphale managed, "No time."  
"You're not even ready to-"   
"Can't do it."   
"Aziraphale..."  
"Their aura is... wrapped in mine." He managed, "To help... them."  
Crowley buried his head in Aziraphale's shoulder, "You damn fool."  
"For the baby." Aziraphale replied, "For our baby."   
"You never had any intention of letting me take over, did you?" The serpent hissed in his ear, "You old bastard, Aziraphale." He felt the angel's chest heaving as he gasped air back into his lungs. Tears of agony dripped from his cheeks, and Crowley shakily wiped them with his thumbs, "You're lucky I love you Angel. I hope you know what you're doing now."

****

Two agonising hours passed. Even in as much pain as he was finally admitting to be in, it was still 6 in the morning before Anathema nodded, "Okay, easy now, tell us for the next one, start to push, and Crowley, help him, lean into it with him."  
"Okay." Crowley murmured into Aziraphale's damp hair, plastered to his neck with sweat. The angel was muttering to himself, something in the Angelic tongue but with enough other languages thrown in to diffuse and reduce any holy power it might have had against Crowley. He squeezed the demon's hand, "Now..." and Crowley leaned against him, helping him press downwards while still holding his partners hands.  
Aziraphale screamed in pain. His aura spiked, twisted and swirled with his emotional state.   
Minutes ticked by and all Crowley heard was Aziraphale's cries, peppered with Anathema's encouragement. He didn't even see Newt, sat on the end of the daybed giving Anathema a drink every now and again, staring wide eyed at proceedings.   
After what seemed like an eternity Anathema smiled, "I see red hair, Crowley! Come on Aziraphale, just a little more."  
"Ngk." Crowley managed. Aziraphale bit his lip, nodded and pressed forward, a further cry escaping him as Newt's expression changed to a little nauseated.   
"Next one should do it." Anathema called, cradling the baby's head gently as she counted, "And go."  
Aziraphale's cry mixed with a different noise.   
"Finally." Crowley managed, squeezing the Angel in what he hoped was a supportive way. Aziraphale gazed at the baby as Anathema patted it's back, encouraging it to cry to empty it's lungs. Something akin to confusion was clouding his features, but whatever it was, he wasn't voicing it.   
"There we go..." Anathema said, "Newt, throw me a towel."  
Crowley risked a glance over Aziraphale's shoulder at a further squeal of upset from the little creature. It looked normal, like human normal, no wings, no particular markings save for what looked like bruising (The mark of a difficult delivery, he had read - and he thanked somebody he had read, else he would have panicked at the sight of what could have been demon markings), no sign of a flicking, forked tongue or sharp teeth already breaking the gums. The child flailed, screamed again. Crowley's eyes flicked to Anathema in silent thanks, but she was staring at the baby, confused.   
"It may not have a gender." Crowley managed, thinking that was the cause of the confusion, "We don't always."   
"That's not it." Anathema replied, gazing back to Aziraphale, "The aura is... The aura is split."  
"Split?" Crowley managed, "Aziraphale, you let go, didn't you?"   
Aziraphale had been looking quite uncertain, but as Crowley spoke he cried out again, a strangled scream born of unexpected pain. Anathema, now visibly panicked, rushed to sort the cord out and passed the baby to Newt, who held it in the towel as if it were made of glass, "Ana, I-'  
"It's not rocket science, Newt, just hold it while I try to help!" She turned back to the two beings on the bed, rushing to the Angel's side, "Aziraphale, what do you feel, we need to know."  
"What is it, Angel?" Crowley yelled, fear filling his heart.   
"Crowley, Crowley..." Aziraphale managed wearily, gripping his partners hands like a vice, 'I-I understand now."  
"Understand what?" Anathema asked. The angel forced his eyes open, "There's another, it's twins.'  
Anathema gaped, "But they only have one aura, Aziraphale."  
'Twins, twins are...' the angel managed, "Close."  
"Yes, but even so-"  
"They must be..." Aziraphale groaned again, somehow fighting forward to bear down again, and Anathema moved back down to his legs, eyes still on the pair.   
"They're Identical twins." Crowley choked softly, his eyes full of tears as he understood what he could see, "They must be identical. From one egg. Look at it, Anathema, the aura isn't split, it's shared, a cord of light like a binary star."  
At this point Aziraphale threw his head back against Crowley with another anguished scream. Crowley managed to squeeze against him harder, "Hang in there Angel... Please..."  
"Just a bit more, Aziraphale." Anathema whispered.   
Confusion and worry were palpable in the air in waves, and this time the emotions from the children, no longer held close and cosy together, made sense. The baby in Newts arms continued to scream unhappily and try to break out of it's swaddling. Thankfully, this time it was mere minutes before Anathema was scrabbling for another towel, "Okay, it's okay little one!"  
Aziraphale tensed at the sensation of the other baby being eased free, the sound of it's indignant cry, and he leaned forward a little to lay his eyes on the twins. He beamed exhaustedly, "I told you... Told you both... It would be okay. I love you. I'm so happy to see you."  
Crowley grabbed at the angel, pulling him back into a close embrace, "Oh shut up, Angel." He nuzzled at his partner's hair, "Shut up and take care of yourself, now. They're important but so are you."

****

It didn't take long for the placenta to follow the twins, much to Crowley's relief as he felt sure the angel wouldn't be able to handle any more pain. He was exhausted, enough so that he didn't say anything when Anathema came back from the en suite with a damp, warm cloth to clean him up with. He didn't complain when Crowley gently pulled him back to the head of the bed, lying him down in the soft pillows.   
After hours screaming his lungs out his throat and ears hurt, and Aziraphale was thankful that when Newt had lain them side by side on the day bed, the twins had finally fallen silent, comforted by the closeness of their sibling. They were so quiet in fact, that Crowley had almost forgotten they were there while he stroked the angel's hair, wiped his face and neck with a cool cloth and hummed gently to him.   
"Crowley." Anathema whispered at length when Aziraphale was comfortably dozing, "You should come and see them now. He's sleeping, he'll be fine."  
Crowley jumped at the thought, and spun to the day bed with excitement and trepidation. As a demon, outwardly he was proud of his animalistic features, hiding them more so he could pass unnoticed through humanity. As a fallen angel however, he was terrified of his children having to suffer the same as he had, hiding their eyes or tongue or even their true form for fear of being kidnapped, tortured, bound and used, or even killed, through the years. His hands shook as Anathema indicated he should sit beside Aziraphale on the bed, and lifted the slightly older twin first to pass to it's father.  
"I think it's twin girls." She remarked, "Though I'm not entirely sure what your 'no gender' looks like so I'd rather not assume."  
"They'll work it out." Crowley managed, laying eyes on the first child.   
The younger twin began to complain, and Newt picked her up gently, putting her in Crowley's lap so she was close to her cradled sister. Crowley didn't speak. His demonic eyes took each little near identical face in (the older one had quite a bit of bruising on her temples and cheek from the delivery; the younger one had presumably had an easier time of it)  
"Shall I do some breakfast?" Newt asked.   
"Do us some breakfast; I think Aziraphale may be out a little while." Anathema replied, as she started to tidy the towels and general mess away into the bathroom. Suddenly she heard Crowley gasp, and ran back out, "Are they okay?"   
"Her eyes." Crowley managed. Anathema approached the bed and took the younger twin from Crowley's lap. The little girl (And little they were, Anathema realised; they had to be 4 or 4 and a half pounds maximum, suggesting that they had in fact been born early. Luckily for Aziraphale and his still male hips, she pondered. She made a mental note to tell the angel if he ever tried this again he should wear a body a little better suited for it.)   
The baby blinked at her sleepily, and suddenly all thoughts went out of the witches head, "Oh, her eyes are beautiful."   
Crowley sniffed and Anathema glanced up to see a tear roll down his cheek, "You are a soft demon, aren't you?"  
"No." He grumbled, but rubbed the tear away, "I didn't want them to have to hide who they are."   
"They won't." Anathema replied, "Most people won't notice, and those that do will just think it's a cool gene mutation." She looked back at the baby, "Blue right eye, Gold left. Human pupils. She's going to be an absolute stunner, Crowley. They both will be."  
"That what the further prophecies say?" The demon chuckled.   
"No." Anathema replied, "That's what I say. Mismatched eyes, red hair..." She smiled as the baby opened her little mouth, "And dimpled cheeks that suggest they're going to smile sunlight smiles."  
"Aziraphale's smiles." Crowley agreed. He frowned at the baby in his hands, "Blue right eye? This one's blue is the left."   
The witch stood to look, "So it is." She looked the girls both over, "They do look identical otherwise... I wonder what happened there..."

****

Aziraphale slept through the morning, leaving Crowley, Anathema and Newt to feed the girls and dig out suitable clothing (Crowley settled on just nappies and short sleeved vests due to the heat, but was a little saddened to find even the smallest vests big on the little girls. He eventually miracled a set of smaller clothes from one of the existing boxes)   
The angel woke in a daze in the early afternoon, to the sound of Crowley chatting quietly away. His eyes opened half way, to find out what his partner was doing without alerting him. Both children were lying on their fronts on his chest, a slender arm snaked around each child's back supportively, and facing each other so they were calm. Their heads were tilted slightly upwards to the sound of his voice, and they appeared to be fascinated.   
He was telling them about Eden, Aziraphale realised, and closed his eyes to enjoy the moment.   
Crowley got to "Didn't you have a flaming sword?" And chuckled, "Your mum said he gave it away. And I couldn't believe it. I melted. He was so upset and so worried and all I could do was stare at him in utter wonderment."  
Then he reached briefly with a finger on the closer hand, and poked Aziraphale in the shoulder, "I know you're awake, I can feel the increase in sappy love."  
Aziraphale opened his eyes again, blushing a little as he turned his head to Crowley. "I wish I had been able to take in that face at the time." He smiled as he slowly, carefully moved to sit up. Crowley waited until he had propped himself up properly before he replied, "You've seen it since."  
Aziraphale smiled, but held his arms out, "Can I see them?"  
Crowley paused, "Angel, I'm afraid to say-"  
"Please, Crowley?" the angel pleaded, "I was so tired, I wanted to hold them, but..."  
Crowley looked at the distress in those blue-green eyes and handed the older child over first, "I'm sorry that they have-"  
"Oh!" Aziraphale cooed, stroking her small amount of red hair, "Dearest little one, welcome to life, I'm so sorry you've had a rough arrival." He paused as she squinted at him, "Crowley... Oh she's perfect! I have... I have always loved your eyes..."   
Crowley blushed. After a few minutes Aziraphale swapped for the younger girl, "And you, welcome to you. You were a surprise! A welcome one though. You are both so loved, and so beautiful."   
The child caught his finger as he stroked at her cheek, and he managed a squeak of joy. Crowley found himself smiling. it was impossible not to; The angel and his offspring were exuding such pure love that it touched Crowley's heart. Something he wasn't aware until a few months ago that he still had the capacity for. He considered a moment, "Angel?"   
"Yes Dear?"   
"Do you think... that her above... Did she do something to me?"   
"Apart from protecting you?"  
"Yeah. Because our wings changed... do you think she changed us, to be closer to them?"   
"Maybe." Aziraphale replied, "She moves in mysterious ways. Are you alright, Crowley?"   
"Yeah." the demon murmured, "The last few months... have made me wonder if I'm still a demon."  
Aziraphale nuzzled against Crowley, "I have read parenthood changes many things about a human person, Crowley. Maybe it's made us more human."   
Crowley didn't reply. Aziraphale kissed his shoulder, "We have all the time in the world. We can discover who we are, and so who they are, together."  
"With fledglings in tow." Crowley chuckled.   
"Not always." Aziraphale purred, "We have friends to..." His shoulders wiggled in joy at using a word for what may have been the first time, "Babysit."  
Crowley glanced to his partner, and put his free arm around him, squeezing him close, "My Angel. Loving angel. Beautiful Principality Aziraphale, Guardian of the eastern gate of Eden."  
It was Aziraphale's turn to blush. Crowley kissed his forehead, "Now we look upon two more new lives and give them the same hope we gave Adam and Eve."  
"Knowledge and Strength." Aziraphale murmured, "I like your thinking." He paused, "You're right though Crowley, you're being very...poetic right now."   
"I saw their eyes Angel, and I didn't know whether despair or joy would win." He admitted, "I cried, Angel. I loved as much as I've loved you all these years, but all at once."  
Aziraphale smiled, tears welling in his eyes "I know. I felt the same when I saw them. They're perfect Crowley, so beautiful."   
Crowley glanced at Aziraphale, "No, no, don't blub Angel. Had too much of that today."   
Joyful tears spilled down the angel's face, "B-But they're beautiful, Crowley. I can't not cry. They're beautiful, and they're our children, and they love so much already."   
"I know, Angel. I'm sorry." Crowley nuzzled his hair, "I just... didn't expect to be this affected."  
Aziraphale reached to kiss his partner, "My mate, my love."  
"My Angel." Crowley kissed back.  
The twins were asleep soon. Crowley had a sneaking suspicion they had been waiting to meet their mother, to shower him with love as thanks for his support. Angels thrived on love, and Aziraphale was quickly regaining his strength.   
At length Crowley passed the older twin to Aziraphale too, "I'll get the basket. They're small, they'll both fit."   
Aziraphale beamed when he returned with the wicker newborn basket, pushing the folded up day bed to the bottom of their bed to place the basket safely in the midst of a pile of cushions.   
"A nest for our hatchlings." chuckled Crowley. Aziraphale handed them over one at a time, and watched the demon tuck them in tenderly. The angel beamed fondly, thinking back to Crowley's heartfelt words, "Dear Anthony J. Crowley, former angel, lover of knowledge, questioner and humanitarian extraordinaire. How on earth can I ever thank you for being my companion and love all these years?" It was a rhetorical question, but Crowley smiled nonetheless, "You can hold that thought, Angel. I have something else." He finished tucking in the other twin, winked, and left the room. Aziraphale heard him descend the stairs, and lay back gingerly, closing his eyes with a satisfied, loving sigh. An angel with a heart full of love was rare in his experience, and he thought it rather sad. After all, they were all missing this glorious, glowing feeling. Though perhaps they wouldn't at all be keen on the aches and pains that continued to lurk down below. He rubbed idly at his middle, knowing it wouldn't do any good but feeling better for doing something.   
Crowley returned, sliding into bed beside him. He caressed Aziraphale's cheek, "Newt and Anathema have gone back to theirs to get some rest. They'll be back later to be sure you're okay."  
"How kind. I wanted to thank Anathema. She has been a stone these past few months."  
Crowley chuckled, "A rock, Angel."   
"If you say so dear boy."   
"Sit up Angel, and keep your eyes closed."  
Aziraphale did as he was told, "Honestly Crowley I hope this isn't-"  
"Open your eyes."   
"Oh!" the angel beamed once more to find a wine glass in front of him. Crowley poured some for each of them - a red, which smelt divine itself after 8 months sober - and moreso when the demon gave him a wolfish grin and waved a hand past the angel's eyes, turning the drink into Champagne which they clinked together delicately to avoid waking the twins.   
"Try that magic next time you put on a show." Crowley chuckled.   
"Honestly dear boy, you know what happened to the last person to do that." Aziraphale tutted.  
"That was water to wine, Angel." Crowley's eyes glinted as he huddled close to his partner, pulling the bedsheets over his legs, "This is an upgrade."  
"What did we decide to toast to?" Aziraphale asked.   
"I don't remember." Crowley replied, "But I think it was something to do with friends, family-"  
"And to do with being alive." Aziraphale added.  
"-In our brave new world." Crowley grinned.   
"To life." Aziraphale smiled as he met Crowley's eye.   
"To life, love." Crowley replied.   
"And the future." the angel whispered before they took their first drink together in eight long months.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope that was worth waiting for!
> 
> Theres just a few loose ends to tie up...


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cheers again to Kowarth :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These paragraphs aren't as linked as previous ones might have been. They're more of an overview/coda sort of thing to get to the last paragraph, which is where I wanted to leave it in case I come up with any more plot later :)

"You honestly can't be suggesting that as a name!" Aziraphale squeaked, "The sadness, despair and behaviour of all involved-"  
Crowley pulled a face, "You're suggesting we name one after a suicidal woman."  
"It's not stated-"  
"Oh it's okay now is it? The angel of God comes with a message from on high that suicide is okay now, so long as it's not clear if they did it or not? The police and lawyers would love you, Angel."  
"Don't be so facetious, Crowley!" Aziraphale replied, "There are plenty of other Ophelias. I knew one in Florence."  
"That was the 6th century, Angel."  
"And old names are always coming back into fashion."  
"Since when do you know anything about fashion?"  
At that moment there was a sharp cry from the basket. The two beings exchanged a glance, each blaming the other raising their voice and willing the other to pick the child up.  
Then the other twin joined in. Aziraphale sighed, "One each?"  
"Babies or choice of names?" Crowley replied. Aziraphale brushed the comment off and made to collect one of the infants, passing her to her father and scooping up the other, "There, there dear."  
The baby sobbed, throwing herself bodily against the angel. He shushed her, "Dear child, whatever is wrong? You've been fed, you're dry..."  
"Perhaps they can sense the mood." Crowley said as he stroked the other twin's hair.  
"D-Do you think?" Aziraphale worried, "I'm so sorry little one. We didn't mean to upset you. Naming you right is so important, we care so much."  
Crowley walked around the bed, throwing his free arm around the angel, "Yeah, we weren't really upset at each other. We just like lively debates."  
The children stared in their general direction, and continued to cry.  
"Oh Crowley, What now?" Aziraphale fretted, "They've been so good until now."  
Crowley turned his head toward Aziraphale, "There's one thing we could try."  
Aziraphale turned his head to Crowley, "Yes?"  
Crowley kissed him gently, "Love you Angel."  
"Oh, Crowley..." the Angel smiled. Then he blinked at the girls. Silence reigned.  
"It... worked?"  
"Sensitive little babes." Crowley smiled, "Like my angel." He flicked his serpentine tongue against the back of his partner's neck. Aziraphale squeaked and began to giggle, "Crowley, stop!"  
There was a sharp intake of breath from each twin, and the two looked back at them. Aziraphale's mouth dropped open, "They can't know how to smile already, that's a - a learned skill..."  
"Well... you grew them, and you seemed pretty happy about it." Crowley replied, "I'm sure if I had carried them, they would have had a thousand yard scowl."  
"Imagine that." Aziraphale chuckled, his cheeks dimpling as he took in the girl's beautiful smiles. 

****

"So I thought maybe it was because of how their aura divided between them." Anathema mused as she checked the girls over on their third day of life, "You're suggesting something far more metaphysical, aren't you?"  
Aziraphale nodded, "Like a mirror image, they had the same makeup but upon becoming aware of each other, they may have realised something wasn't quite the same as they faced each other."  
"So one of them swapped their eyes over to mirror the other?"  
Aziraphale managed a small smile, "It's an interesting theory."  
"Sounds like fanfiction." Newt added.  
"Bad fanfiction." chuckled Anathema, not unkindly, as she passed the younger twin back to the angel.  
"Yes, well." Aziraphale replied, "I've yet to work out if their bodies are built like a human baby's would be, or if they've constructed their own forms from studying their own otherworldly senses."  
"It might take a few years to work that one out." Crowley snorted, "Best to just keep an eye on their physical forms in the meantime."  
Aziraphale nodded. Anathema made to sit back down in the armchair alongside the sofa, "I'm actually surprised you're up and about so soon, Aziraphale. If you ever, ever decide to do this again..."  
"It wasn't my decision this time." He replied.  
"No, but." The witch quieted him, "Do something with your vessel. Male hips weren't made for this. You could have died, and them too. I honestly thought you were going to when you deafened Crowley before the first one arrived. That scream was agony. Honestly if I'd have seen more blood than I did, I would have been concerned."  
"Yes, well." Aziraphale blushed.  
"She's got a point, Angel." Crowley replied, where he was lost in the older baby's eyes, "You don't get to scare me shitless and not get ticked off for it. Particularly when I told you so."  
"Crowley, your language." Aziraphale sighed.  
"Did you think up any names yet?" Anathema broke in, "I know having two was a shock but you must have some idea."  
"We had a few heated discussions" Aziraphale admitted.  
"It made the kids cry." Crowley snorted.  
"But..." Aziraphale continued, "We came to a consensus with Shakespeare."  
"Shakespeare?"  
"Happy Elizabethan memories." Crowley snorted again.  
"Dear, please." Aziraphale sighed. Crowley stretched his free arm across the sofa to stroke the back of the angel's head gently, his soft hair clean and fluffy now, "Let's just say we have a soft spot for the old Bard."  
"And..?" Anathema pressed.  
"Alice Octavia." Crowley replied, rocking the girl who's eyes were fixated on him, though there was no way she could focus yet. He smiled and nuzzled at her hair.  
"And Ariel Ophelia." Aziraphale added.  
"Nice." Newt said, "What series they from then?"  
"Newt." Anathema sighed, "Shakespeare? The old bard? The plays?"  
"I'm just glad they're getting used to not seeing each other all the damn time." Crowley chuckled, "The screaming when they couldn't see one another was getting too much. Eventually they might be able to sleep apart, too."  
"At least we have quiet nights, Dear." Aziraphale reminded him, "Not all new parents can say the same. I actually invested in earplugs." He raised his eyes to Anathema, "So if anybody else needs them..."  
"How about you keep hold of them." Anathema replied, "There's more chance of you having another than of me having one."

****

As time went on and the girls grew, it became increasing easy to tell the mood Crowley was in, even without the cues Aziraphale had learnt over the years. He could tell when he went into the nursery before bed, checking the girls, tucking them in, making sure the night light was on; Whatever book was on top of the bookcase would tell him - this month it would either be Elmer or go the f**k to sleep. Next month it might be Spot, or one of the sequels to that book, which he really must put back in their bedroom... He took a little peek; Oh dear, he thought. Now what can have brought Crowley's sulk on tonight?  
He moved to the cribs, checking on Alice first. The toddler was sleeping peacefully; She loved being read to. When he got to the other crib though, he realised why Crowley had got as far as that particular book.  
"Why are you still awake, Ariel dear?" the angel asked. The little girl gurgled, "Daddee."  
"Did you upset your father?" Aziraphale asked, trying to hide his smile as the toddler reached up to him. He reached down to her and squeaked in alarm at a multicoloured flash, "Oh!"  
Ariel kicked her legs in amusement. Aziraphale rubbed his eyes, "Please don't do that, Ariel dear. I know you love conjuring pretties but you're going to blind me with your pretty lights."  
"Not her again." Crowley's voice reached across the nursery.  
"I'm afraid so." Aziraphale replied, "Can you pick her up for me? I'm afraid she's rather blinded me for a moment."  
"Alice threw coloured sparks at me when I put her down." Crowley sulked, moving to lift the girl, who cooed at her reflection in her father's glasses. He chuckled, "They're going to have a swine of an adolescence Angel." he bounced the toddler gently, "We'll have poltergeist activity up and down the country."  
"I suppose it could be worse." Aziraphale replied, "At least they're not playing with black holes."  
"Yes, they leave that to you." Crowley grinned, "Come on Ri, lets get you some milk and see if that settles you down."  
"Dada?" Came another small voice from the other crib. Crowley rolled his eyes, "You're up Angel, Li's yours."  
"Oh dear..."

****

Crowley jumped up from his seat, spilling his drink on his trousers at the sound of something breaking in the kitchen, "Girls?"  
He jogged down the hallway to find the red headed toddlers staring uncertainty at a jar of coffee that had been nowhere near the edge when he'd made his drink. Alice ran to him, tears in her eyes, "No means to break Dada."  
"It's okay Li." he comforted, before glancing up at her sister, "Come around this way Ri, there's no glass here." Ariel followed her sister. He sat them down and fetched a dustpan from the cupboard. They watched him, intrigued.  
He frowned at the floor, "Your mother hasn't swept in a few, has he? Old habits die hard." He went to get the broom. As he returned, Ariel's eyes went wide in joy, "Brooo!" She leant forward as if to stand, but Crowley stopped her, "Not around the glass, Ri."  
The toddler sat down again, disappointed, but a little closer than before. At length she sniffed, "Ah-ah-CHOO!" And fell backwards on the floor, "AHHHHH!"  
Crowley dropped the broom at the scream. He spun and gaped.  
Alice beamed at her sister, "Riitties." She grabbed hold of a handful of the shocked looking Ariels beautiful, shimmering little wings. Ariel screamed again, and Crowley finally managed to move, "No Li, No no, don't do that it hurts when you pull feathers."  
"Ritties!" shrieked the toddler again.  
"Pretties, yes." Crowley replied, "Here, look, big pretties!" He unfurled his own wings, "See?" He grabbed a twin in each arm, leading them to reach for his feathers.  
"Dada ritty." They chorused, Ariel's wings fluttering in joy.  
"What's going on in there?" called Aziraphale from the library.  
"Come and see what Ariel's managed to do!" Crowley called. A moment later Aziraphale appeared around the doorframe. He looked worried until he saw, and his face brightened, "Oh, oh she!-" he released his own wings, "We'll be able to teach them to fly, Crowley!" "If we can get Li to sneeze her wings out too, maybe." Crowley chuckled as Aziraphale huddled to the girls, stroking his daughter's shimmering feathers, "We will have to teach her to take care of them, and to preen, and-" He hummed happily, "Oh Crowley this is so exciting!"  
"Yes, well you grab them and I'll get the phone for a picture." Crowley chuckled, "You can never tell with this pair how long they'll do this stuff for." 

****

Summer was coming. The air was warm, the birds sang, the plants enjoyed the sun, and the twins would soon be 3 years old. Aziraphale watched them play from the shade of the trees in their garden, a book in hand and his heart full of peace and love and other angelic things. The smell of tea cooking floated across from the kitchen, where Crowley had been honing his skills. Alice was running around with one of her books - she loved to read, but equally she also loved to write, and had been able to form letters as soon as she had got used to holding a crayon. Ariel on the other hand had picked up a piece of a plant that Crowley had trimmed earlier, and was running around waving it like a magic wand. He kept a close eye on the younger twin - they had both already shown they were capable of affecting the world around them, although neither had ever pulled a miracle up or down from either of their parent's 'homes'. Thankfully. Aziraphale didn't like to think how hard it would be to explain miracles like 'pulled coffee jar off kitchen worktop' 'got rid of an ouchie' or the ever amusing 'fitted Elmer the elephant toy into vacuum cleaner nozzle to the point where dada said a bad word in front of us and daddy didn't speak to him for the rest of the day.'  
'Aziraphale...' Came a calm, feminine voice. Aziraphale felt prickles of recognition up his spine, and sat up, "Lord?"  
"Dear Aziraphale." Her voice was soft and loving, "I've been watching your little family for some time. The girls are indeed growing well. They would be well suited to life on the edge of the ethereal and the real - Alice takes such joy from her words, and Ariel has such a free spirit she delivers joy wherever she goes. They are truly special souls and will do amazing things. Inspirational, you might say."  
"T-thank you." whispered Aziraphale, "We've tried our best to raise them well."  
"Continue to do so, my dear child." Came the reply, "And be sure to give my love to my beloved Crowley, would you?"  
"Of course, Lord."  
There was a pause. Aziraphale held his breath for whatever else she had to say.  
"Would you consider more?" was eventually whispered in his ear.  
Aziraphale's heart skipped a beat, missing the hardships almost entirely and jumping immediately to the vast amounts of love and joy the twins brought to them. He coughed, trying to ground his emotions, "I would have to discuss that with Crowley, but I love the girls, I'm sure I could love more children."  
"You choose well, dear Angel." came the whisper on the breeze. A few metres away, Ariel shrieked as stray leaves swirled around her.  
"Listen closely to me, Aziraphale." God said, her voice a breath in his ear now, "When I protected you, I gave you control over your heat, too. Take as long as you need, speak to Crowley when you are ready, and go forth and love, my dear, sweet children. In due time what your children will be, will become apparent."  
"Thank you Lord." Aziraphale felt the breeze ruffle his hair and inhaled it deeply, enjoying the feel of air touched by his lord and mother, "I am not ready yet, but I will do my very best with your gift."  
"Daddy!" Alice leapt into his lap, giving him a start. The girl was crying, "Daddy, what word?" He smiled, looked over her shoulder to where Crowley was miming '5 minutes to food' through the French doors, helped the girl to pronounce G-ar-den, and took them both in to wash for tea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So what are the girls? Will they have more? (Am I a rabid fangirl?)
> 
> One thing of note; I actually found out a few days ago that another writer named a child of Azi and Crowley Alice! I do apologise dear heart, I didn't realise when I named the girls and the names kinda stuck. 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed it, please let me know if you want to see what a mess I can make of further stories!


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